The Last Harvest
by Argonaut57
Summary: The Galaxy is now at open war, and Babylon Five is the command centre for the Council races. Commander Vega leads a team in the final assault on HYDRA, while the fleets of the allied species move to counter the shadows and the vorlons. That leaves one last, vital mission for the Warsworn and their leader, the Grey Warden, once known as Commander Shepard.
1. Chapter 1

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter One**

"We're fighting on three fronts, basically." The Primarch was saying. "That's not a good situation to be in!"

"I'd have thought you'd be relishing the challenge!" Replied the Dalatrass.

"That would be us." Remarked Urdnot Wrex. "But even we see the seriousness of the situation, Dalatrass."

"Nobody doubts that." The Prime Minister put in. "But if we lose our sense of humour, we lose our sense of proportion, do we not?"

"A viewpoint unique to the human psyche." The Matriarch noted. "You should send missionaries out to teach the rest of us to laugh at ourselves, sometimes, Ethan. Especially at times like this"

"We should at least thank Primarch Saderus for pointing out the elephant in the room." Earth Councillor Alenko noted. "The Reaper War was complicated by the interference of Cerberus, which was unexpected and caught us off-balance. The continuing threat from HYDRA cannot be ignored, much as we would like to sweep it under the rug."

"I saw an elephant on my last trip to Earth." Primarch Saderus noted. "You'd need one Hell of a rug!"

The laughter cleared the air. The meeting had become tense, and started to go round in circles. It didn't help that the only ones actually physically present were the six members of the Galactic Council: Kaidan Alenko, Garrus Vakarian, Matriarch Ashiara Galina, Urdnot Grunt, Tali'Vakarian vas Normandy and the new salarian Councillor Meeran Talbus. All the others were linked in via QEC from their homeworlds.

Now Ethan Akasisi, Prime Minister of the Human Alliance, a tall thin man with chocolate skin and wiry grey hair, spoke again. "It was a pity, but sadly no great surprise, to find many humans involved with HYDRA. Governing my race is akin to herding cats; we're an independent-minded bunch and most of us are at best tolerant of authority. Many outright resent it and choose every opportunity to rebel. I was more surprised at the extent to which a human-based organisation had managed to infiltrate other races."

"Their ideas are not racially-based." Matriarch Jeleana S'Dorta was one of half-a-dozen Matriarchs who took turns to represent the Asari Culture. "I'm afraid that in our case, tolerance of different ideas and the freedom of debate did not serve us so well. HYDRA speaks to a conceit of the Superior Person which too many of our people find attractive."

"You did get out here first." Primarch Felix Saderus noted. "Nobody really blames any asari for acting a bit superior, given what we all owe you. Our hierarchical meritocracy has similar weaknesses. HYDRA preyed on those who thought they should have risen further, faster."

"We all have chinks that can be exploited." President Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib, of the Quarian Republic, noted. "Breast-beating is not why we're here. What are we dealing with?"

"Three threats." Urdnot Wrex, Chief of Chiefs of the United Krogan Clans, took it upon himself to lay it out for them.

"We have the vorlons. A massive fleet backed by unknown resources, escorting planet-wrecker ships. They're attacking and wiping out krogan, turian and human colonies, as well as any and all geth installations. Their ships seem to be organic. Powerful beam weapons and heavy shields, but weak hulls. Once you get through the shields, they go down quick, but it's not easy to get through. Ship classes seem to run from corvette up to dreadnought. Don't know how their command systems, sensors or comms work yet, but it seems that what one knows, they all know, straight away.

"Then there's the shadows. We know they have only the one fleet, since the Leviathan and rachni destroyed their homeworld. But it's a big one, and they have a planet-wrecker of their own. Their weapons are designed to slice rather than hit straight on, and can be evaded by smaller ships. They're more effective against a dreadnought than a frigate. Shields are medium, but those crystal hulls are tough, they don't go down easy. But they can't replace what they lose. Their sensors and comms are wholly telepathic, but we got some specs from the Warsworn that allow us to counter that. They're targeting asari, hanar, human and minbari worlds. They have a problem with the geth, in that it seems our synthetic friends are entirely invisible to them.

"Finally, HYDRA, a subversive organisation spread across all species. Their aim is apparently to rebuild every society from the ground up in accordance with an ideology whereby the 'superior' individuals rule the 'inferior' for what they call the 'greater good' of the Galaxy. This involves indoctrination, eugenics and culling through controlled wars, among other things. They were the driving force behind the Night Watch and other species-separatist groups, and had also infiltrated the Unity Movement. They seem to have been working with both the shadows and the vorlons. But the separatist organisations went down when the shadow central command was taken out, and Colonel Sinclair and his people have purged the Unity Movement. That just leaves subversion and occasional terrorism."

"Thank you, Wrex." Prime Minster Akasisi said. "What are our assets, and how are we using them?"

Primarch Saderus called up a display on the holo projector. "Our four biggest fleets are the human, turian, quarian and geth." He said. "The Alliance and quarian fleets are concentrating on the vorlon threat, which comes from Coreward, while the Hierarchy and the Consensus are deployed Rimward to counter the shadows. Their objectives are to defend colonies, cover evacuations if necessary, but primarily to cripple or destroy the planet-wreckers. We don't know if the vorlons have more than one of the big ships, but since there's only one with their fleet, we hope that putting it out of action will at least gain us some time.

"The minbari fleet is providing transport and fleet support to various Special Forces units from all races. They're dealing with HYDRA bases and installations. Since the war effort is being coordinated from Babylon Five, the asari fleet is deployed to protect the Serpent Nebula. Meanwhile, the salarian fleet is doing what it does best – gathering intel."

"The Unions' scientists are working at full capacity to find ways to counter the various enemies." The Dalatrass put in. "And also to duplicate the matter-transport and ship-cloaking tech clearly possessed by HYDRA."

"And in the meantime, the Council will assemble a team of Spectres to seek out and apprehend this man Hugo Schmidt." Alenko said. "The legendary hydra was supposed to grow more heads, the more you cut off. In the real world, things should be different!"

Under-Leader Michaels was becoming more worried about the Leader. Sirdar Mons, the lystheni salarian doctor who had applied the amended serum to Schmidt, had warned Michaels that the effects were not predictable. At first, all had seemed well, but the Leader was becoming more withdrawn, where before he had taken an active interest in the detail of plans and the status of the movement, he was leaving more and more to Michaels and his other subordinates With HYDRA fighting for its very existence, this was not good. Perhaps the time was coming for a change?

"Leader, Hail HYDRA!" He barked as he entered the Observation Deck. This was where the Leader spent most of his time, now, looking out onto the barren landscape of the world where HYDRA now had its' last redoubt. Michaels noted that the Leader had abandoned his uniform for a grey coverall such as the techs wore.

Schmidt did not look at him. He was staring at his hand, which he flexed and turned in front of his face. "It is a puzzle." He said in a faraway voice. "But one I am sure is capable of solution. Which came first? The hand that enables us to manipulate the world? Or the mind that makes us wish to? Dolphins and whales are intelligent without hands, but is it the same type of intelligence? We make things because we have hands. But did the hand come first and drive the growth of our intelligence, or did we have to wait until our thumbs turned to be able to use our minds?"

"It is not something I have considered, Leader." Michaels said cautiously.

"Of course not." The Leader said, turning. "You have too many things in the way."

There was a portrait in the room that showed what the imperfect serum had done to Schmidts' ancestor. Why Johann Schmidt had been called the Red Skull – near-fleshless features covered with a glistening red skin. Hugo Schmidt had also become different. He was hairless now, and his features were becoming daily more bland and lacking in individuality, the lines and marks of experience gone. He was blue. Not asari blue, but the deep blue-black of Element Zero, of dark energy, the same dark energy that flared and flowed around him as he moved.

"What did you wish to say?" He asked.

"Leader, the last of our agents have been removed from the Babylon Five command structure." Michaels reported. "The Unity Movement is lost. A Spectre-led coup on Nova Roma has cost us our base there. All the Council races are purging our people. Our bases are being hunted out -our training camp at Hawking Eta has been raided and destroyed by krogan and asari commandos.

"What are your orders, Leader?"

"What would you have me do?" Schmidt asked.

"There is a war on, Leader!" Michaels said. "We should be taking advantage of peoples' fear of the shadows and vorlons to force the governments to hand over to our agents. Then when the war has ended, we can begin our work at last!"

"Surely the war will do this for us?" Schmidt mused. "Many of those who lead the Galaxy now were made in the Reaper War. Another generation of superior types will arise from this one to rule afterwards."

"But they cannot be allowed to do so without our guidance!" Michaels protested. "They will not know the proper way to use their power, to rule their people!"

"Is there a proper use for power?" Schmidt wondered. "As for the people: give them King Log or King Heron, the frogs will still complain. Let it be."

This was too much. Michaels drew and fired in the same motion. Schmidt lifted his hand in a blurred motion and caught the projectile before it reached his body. He looked at the tiny thing in his hand.

"No bigger than a grain of sand." He said. "The first firearms used chemical explosives to throw heavy lead balls a few yards. The explosives became more powerful, and the slugs smaller. It wasn't until we discovered the Mass Effect that we could make such tiny projectiles deadly. But not as deadly as you wished, Under-Leader."

Schmidt smiled a little, and suddenly Michaels no longer existed. Torn apart at the quantum level, he never had existed. His 'new' Under-Leader -a turian named Alexis Segundus -stood before him.

"Do as you think best." Schmidt told him.

"Hail, HYDRA!" Segundus responded, and left with a swing in his stride.

Schmidt nodded. The fool would destroy this entire meaningless apparatus. He could not comprehend the forces ranged against him. Then Schmidt would finally be free of entanglements, to do as he pleased.

Matriarch Tulina would not raise her head. "I was deluded, a fool." She said bitterly. "I have brought shame upon my family, my faith and my people. How has it come to this? I intended only good when I began."

"We humans have a saying." Sinclair told her. "It goes 'the road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. Nobody ever starts out with the idea of doing bad things. Everyone, even HYDRA, believes that what they are doing is right and good."

"You were not deluded, Tulina." Ashiara pointed out. "You were deceived and manipulated by a being whose abilities we can barely guess at. But now you are free and we need you!"

Now Tulina looked up. "Need me?" She asked.

"As far as millions of loyal followers are concerned, you're still the leader of the Unity Movement." Sinclair explained. "Oraka and I were very careful to make sure people knew we were acting on your behalf when we cleaned HYDRA out.

"Now we have a war, one potentially as bad as the Reaper War. We need to stay united like never before. The Movement can help with that. We need more than a military alliance, we need to understand and share more, something the Movement has been encouraging."

"But you have to stop pushing for uniformity." Ashiara said. "Sharing, understanding and communication are great things, but it is vital that each race retains its own character and individuality. Asking a krogan and an asari to behave in the same way is wrong, even if it were possible."

"There are asari living on Tuchanka right now, part of krogan society." Tulina pointed out.

"Of course there are." Ashiara replied. "Just as krogan live on Thessia. During the days of the genophage, many krogan married asari. Some merely saw it as the only way they could have children, but most of them were genuine marriages between people who loved each other. We both know that millions of asari have married into other races, but only the krogan live as long as we do, which is why those marriages have lasted. But the asari on Tuchanka, and their daughters, remain asari, even though they live among, and are accepted by, the krogan. Both cultures have learned and even borrowed from each other, but they remain distinct."

"Diversity is no barrier to unity." Sinclair noted. "Providing all parties respect each other. That's where the Movement can help. Will you work with us, Matriarch?"

Tulina nodded. "I will. I need to make up for past mistakes, and my people, my followers, deserve better from me!"

"They've done it to us again, haven't they?" Garrus said. "You're a hero, but you're also a maverick who bends the rules. So they give you a fancy-sounding job that takes up your time, but keeps you out of their crests. Then it all hits the fan again, and suddenly they put you in charge!"

Tali shrugged. "It does make a lot of sense, my love. Babylon Five has the most sophisticated communications array in the Galaxy, and it's smack in the middle of Council space. It's the ideal Command Centre for a war like this. One of the reasons it was built."

"You're right, of course." Garrus admitted. "I'm just getting cranky with age, I suppose."

"_Getting_ cranky?" Tali asked.

Garrus let that pass, he knew better than to get into a battle of wits with his wife. "Are we all here?" He asked.

"Guess so." Kaidan said. "Ashiara is handling civilian affairs, and Meeran is coordinating the science people. We're the ones handling the combat. We're the ones with military experience."

"That's not all we have in common." Tali noted.

"True, and we sure could use Shepard now." Garrus allowed.

"Well, we all learned a lot from him." Kaidan observed.

"Then let's put it into practice!" Grunt said.

Under-Leader Segundus had finished briefing his officers. With the Leaders' new mandate, the time for supine defence was past.

_We begin where we should have begun, with Palaven_. He mused. _Most of the turian fleet is deployed against these shadows. That's good, we need to defend against them. But it also means that a strike force can get past the defences and cut the head off the Hierarchy. My people will follow their Primarch regardless of who he or she is, and when I am Primarch of Palaven, then the Hierarchy will belong to HYDRA!_

Assembling the necessary force would take time, some weeks, but there was no rush, the shadows weren't gong anywhere and neither was Palaven. But it would be better if he could equip the force with some new weapons. That meant seeing the Engineer. The salarian supervisor in the lab had said she was with the Artefact and didn't want to be disturbed. Segundus was having none of that, and was cleared for all areas, so he went to speak with her.

He'd never been in here before. The place was lined with workstations and benches, all with odd contraptions in various stages of construction. Nothing ordered, nothing prioritised. It offended him.

"Hail, HYDRA!" He snapped. "Progress report, Engineer!"

The figure standing at the large installation at the far end of the room turned. A female quarian, wearing the old-style enviro-suit of the Fleet-Born, with its full mask and hood, rather than the simple breath-filter of the Rannoch-Born. The way she moved revealed that she was no longer young, but her voice was strong and carried a whipcrack of authority.

"I am not one of your underlings, Segundus! I am an ally, not a servant. I am Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh, of the Quarian Migrant Fleet. You will address me as 'Admiral' and with due respect!"

Segundus snorted and moved closer. "So this is the wondrous Artefact!" He said. "What is it?"

"If I knew that, my work would be easier!" Xen told him. She pointed to the object to which all the tech around it was connected. A skull, made of silvery metal where it was not scorched and scarred. The teeth were white and even. One socket was empty, the other contained an eye with a yellow iris that flicked around, apparently at random. Segundus realised that the thing was in some way alive or at least active.

"A synthetic?" He asked.

"Clearly." Xen answered. "One modelled after a human, quarian or asari, by the shape of the skull. I lack the knowledge of forensic anthropology to be more precise, nor does it matter. Before the War, one of my science vessels detected a temporary wormhole opening. By the time they arrived, it had closed, but various pieces of wreckage had come through it. Most was simply junk, but this was among it. They brought it back to me and I have worked on it, on and off, for years.

"When the new government retired me because they didn't like my attitude to the geth, I went back to one of the old liveships and concentrated on this. Nobody was interested in what I found until the Leader contacted me.

"This is, or was, an AI synthetic of some kind. Any personality it might have had is either dead or dormant, possibly through the trauma of whatever destroyed its body or some kind of failsafe. But I have managed to get into its memory banks. Their capacity is immense, and much of it is unknown kinds of tech.

"It was from this that I managed to develop the cloaking device and the matter transporter."

"Devices which have served us well." Segundus noted. "But which would serve us better if we had more. Why are you not working on that?"

"Because I don't need to!" She snapped. "The prototypes the Leader has been using were difficult to build. The tech operates on different principles to most of ours, I had to go back to basics, start from scratch. But now I have the blueprints and have trained your techs to build them. Six more cloaking devices and two more transporters will be ready in days.

"There is also this, based on the transporter tech. They – whoever 'they' were – called it a 'replicator'. It can take raw matter and change it into almost anything. Get me a device, a weapon, and it can scan its' molecular structure and produce exact copies from raw metal. Give me food or drink, and it can do the same from organic matter."

"Useful, perhaps, we need modern weapons and don't have the credits to purchase them." Segundus allowed. "But didn't the Artefact hold plans for any weapons at all?"

"Two." Xen admitted. "A phased plasma projector, we have a prototype under test. That one is easier to manufacture, even with the limited resources we can obtain, and we could build ten or fifteen of them in days. The other is called a 'photon torpedo', and has two parts. The engine we cannot duplicate as yet. But the warhead could be fitted onto a standard kinetic missile. However, the warhead is based on anti-matter, which is difficult and dangerous to synthesise.

"That is the biggest barrier. There are designs in there for an engine that would make us independent of the Mass Relays. An engine of massive speed and almost infinite range. But the core is anti-matter, in large amounts, and the power-flow is controlled by crystals of an element which is extremely rare.

"I am prioritising work on the replicator, in the hope that it will overcome these problems by allowing us to make the anti-matter and dilithium we need."

"Not anymore!" Segundus said. "HYDRA is not a manufacturing company. The Leader has given me a free hand, which means you no longer have one, _Admiral_. You will personally supervise the installation of a cloaking device, a transporter, and one of the phased plasma projectors onto my shuttle at once. Over the next weeks, six more shuttles will arrive. You will oversee the installation of cloaks and projectors into them.

"Then you will prioritise the synthesis of anti-matter for these photon warheads. Your other projects will remain on hold until that is done, and if I do not find any other work for you in the meantime. Should you fall short of my expectations, I will hand over all your data, and the Artefact, to Professor Mons -who is loyal to HYDRA – and ship you back to Rannoch in a crate! Perhaps several crates!"

He turned on his heel and left. Xen watched him go with contempt. She had surveillance of the whole base, of course she did. She knew he planned to attack Palaven and usurp the government there. With cloaked shuttles and phased plasma weapons he might even succeed.

But Xen would not work under threat. Her agreement had been with Schmidt, who had clearly lost his grip. Time to move on. She had what she needed now. She could return to the liveships and build the vinculum there. That device would strip the geth of their damned independence and make them the servants of the people again. Everything would be put right, and anyone who complained would answer to Xens' synthetic army!

But she must deal with Segundus first. A discreet message to the Shadow Broker should be enough.

"Hey, there, Shorty!" Commander Vega greeted Captain Draal. Vega was a big man, but the tall minbari still topped him by two or three inches. Given the veteran Spectre's penchant for nicknames, and the peculiarities of the human sense of humour, Draal was hardly surprised at being so addressed.

"James." He said. "I appear to be in even more distinguished company than I thought!"

"Goes for all of us." The quarian Spectre Lorn'Reegar vas Tirimon noted.

"You here too, Deuces?" Vega said. "And the Probie, too!"

"I suppose," Commander Susan Ivanova remarked wryly, "that I'll be 'Probie' to you the rest of my life. 'Shorty' I understand, but where does 'Deuces' come from?"

"Don't ever play poker with this guy!" Vega warned her. "I only fell for it once. He bluffed me into folding on a full house when all he had was a pair of deuces! Lost my shirt."

Lorn chuckled. "My grandmother paid her way on her Pilgrimage by gambling." He explained. "She taught me a few tricks!"

"More than a few!" Vega replied. "Who's your friend?" He asked, indicating the massive krogan sitting at Lorns' side.

"Name's Urdnot Mordin." The krogan replied. "You I know, Commander. You were with Shepard when he got my Mom off Sur'kesh despite everything Cerberus could do."

"You're Wrex and Bakaras' eldest?" Vega said. "The writer? Good to finally meet you, buddy. I should've looked in on your family more when you were growing up, but they kept me too busy. So what you doing hanging around with Lorn?"

"Apparently I'm his krantt." Lorn explained. "We lost a friend to HYDRA a few months back, and Mordins' sticking with me until we get the guy who shot her!"

There was something about the way those two interacted that put James in mind of Shepard and Garrus. That legendary friendship had been instrumental in saving the Galaxy, and this one was liable to be just as successful.

The someone else entered the room. A tall stately asari who carried an air of unmistakable authority. She went straight over to Vega. "James!" She said, taking his proffered hand in both of hers. "It has been too long, my friend!"

"Samara?" James replied. "Figured you'd have retired by now!"

"Alas, no." She responded. "There is always one last duty. In this case, justice for my last daughter."

"Falere was the friend we lost." Lorn supplied. "She was helping us out and caught a bullet, but not before she saved our asses!"

"Yes, and it is good to see you again, my young friends." Samara said. "But why have we all been called here?"

"Because I've got a job for you!" Councillor Kaidan Alenko entered the room briskly and set at the head of the table.

"Sorry I'm late." He said as the others took seats. "War business, you remember, James? You have to take time out to breathe sometimes!

"Anyway, for our sins, four of the Council – Garrus, Tali, Grunt and myself – have been put in charge of running this war -the operational bit, anyway."

"Shepard's' Gang." Vega said.

"Of which you, James, are an honorary member, as is Samara." Kaidan pointed out.

Vega grinned, but Samara' smile seemed more to be at a private joke.

Kaidan carried on. "Now the shadows and vorlons are a straightforward deal. Fleet on fleet battles. But HYDRA is different. We're not even sure they have a fleet, all we've seen or guessed at is shuttles and one cloaked frigate. It's a matter of Special Forces raids and intel.

"That's where we caught a break. The Shadow Broker came by the location of HYDRAs' HQ, the Redoubt. Apparently, even HYDRA has disgruntled employees, as the Brokers' contact only asked for transport off the planet once it's over.

"Right at this moment, we've got a spanking new minbari _WhiteStar_ class stealth frigate loaded with Aralakh Company, elite krogan commandos, and a squad of asari commandos, ready to go."

"So why are we here?" Vega asked.

"Because this is HYDRA." Kaidan said. "Because you and I, James, remember what Cerberus was like. This could be a trap, that base could contain almost anything, even the informer might be a double.

"You guys are the best we have available right now, and some of you have already gone up against HYDRA and won. You know how they fight, what they can and will do to win, and how to counter it. James, Draal, Lorn, you're all Spectres, so I'm ordering you. Mordin, you're your fathers' son if I'm reading Lorns' reports right, so I'm guessing you'll want in. Samara, I'm not even going to try giving orders to a Justicar, but I'm asking for your help."

"Do we have any idea of what we're getting into?" Vega asked.

"Not yet, but the STG have boots on the ground." Kaidan said. "For once, the salarians aren't being cagey. Not all lystheni hate the Union, and HYDRA has recruited a lot of them. Some of them work for STG."

"Oh, well in that case, by the time we get there, we'll know everything including that days' lunch menu!" Lorn remarked.

"Let's hope so." Kaidan said. "James, as senior Spectre, you have mission command. Samara, please make sure he doesn't blow the _whole_ planet up!"

"Who am I, Shepard?" James protested. "OK, people, grab your gear, meet at the docks in thirty!"

"Hoorah!" Lorn said, not without a touch of sarcasm.

The Warsworn fleet was mostly composed of troop transports, escorted by several squadrons of corvettes, but there were a handful of warships. Four frigates: _Imogene, Hispaniola, Arabella_ and _Fancy_. Two destroyers: _Dead Mans' Chest_ and _Jolly Roger. _Two cruisers named _Black Pearl_ and _Flying Dutchman_ and a single dreadnought, the _Queen Annes' Revenge_. All names of pirate ships historical or fictional,, except _Flying Dutchman_, which had been the Grey Wardens' personal flagship before the acquisition of the dreadnought. The Wardens' occasional moments of whimsy were well-known and served as much as anything to seal his popularity with his people.

Now, though, the time for whimsy was past. The fleet waited in position around Kronos Station. In the Overlook, the Warden stood with the Commander and the Ancient of War.

"We don't now how fast this thing will develop." The Warden was saying. "We do know that all the fleets are being coordinated from Babylon Five. We have to assume that both the shadows and the vorlons will figure that out, sooner or later. If their planet-wreckers go down – and they probably will, since the Council fleets will be targeting them – then the station will be the next target. It can't defend itself against both enemy fleets, even with the asari fleet on station. It'll go down before the other fleets can get there."

"Out little fleet won't be much help in that case." Miranda pointed out.

"That's not what it's for." The Warden told her. "You go to the coordinates I've given you, and then open your orders. Then all you need to do is wait for my signal.

"I understand the necessity for sealed orders." Javik said. "My people used them often in our war against the Reapers, for fear of the indoctrinated. But it has not been your usual custom, Warden."

"I know, and it goes against the grain." The Warden admitted. "I've seen too many good people die because somebody felt they had to keep something secret.

"But we don't fully understand what we're up against here. I trust my people, but the shadows and the vorlons may have ways of watching and listening that we don't know about and can't counter. So I'm making sure that even if we are being watched, they won't know what we're doing until it's too late to stop it!"

"Now it's time for you to go. Good luck, both of you, and I'll see you soon!"

Benezia and her team had used the downtime to get used to their new tech specialist. Feneris was a drell, and like most drell, was soft-spoken, courteous and deeply religious in a non-pushy way. He was also kind, and possessed of a quiet humour that made him well-liked.

"Don't see too many drell around here." Larsus had said on the first day. "You usually work for the hanar, don't you?"

"I am one of those who has forsworn the Compact." Feneris said. "I was not born on Kahje, but on Tuchanka, where my parents served in the hanar embassy. My mother died from Keprals' Syndrome when I was sixteen, and my father is also suffering from it. When we were ordered back to Kahje two years later, I refused. The krogan granted asylum, and in the end, I obtained Alliance citizenship through their Embassy. The hanar did not protest beyond a formal letter to me. They understand my reasons."

So did the team. Born on arid Tuchanka, Feneris was unlikely to develop Keprals' Syndrome, which was neither contagious nor genetic, but environmental. But had he returned to Kahje, where his parents had been born and spent their early lives, then he would have been likely to become ill himself, sooner rather than later. The hanar needed the drell, but were compassionate by nature, so his release had been easily accomplished.

Now, however, the team were anxious. They had been expecting to be assigned berths on one of the troopships which were now heading out. Instead, they had been ordered to come, fully-equipped, to this docking area and await further orders.

"Either it's VIP escort, or a suicide mission." Seera had decided.

"Well, aren't you the cheerful one!" Drokk told her.

"Past conversations indicate that Seera is not usually given to optimism." Hawkeye commented.

"Is he always like that?" Feneris asked.

"Geth humour tends to the deadpan." Larsus informed him. "Comes of not actually having a face, I think.

"Uh, oh! Benezia, here comes your Pop!"

"Then it's VIP escort _and_ a suicide mission!" Seera concluded.

"How did you…?" Benezia was floored.

"Not hard." Drokk told her. "Your Mom is Liara T'soni, right? So it doesn't take a genius to guess who your Dad had to be! Most people here figured out you were Shepards' daughter a long time ago. But it took our pet geth here to figure out that he was the Warden!"

"You made errors." Hawkeye said. "You told us your father was dead, but on a minimum forty-five percent of occasions, especially under stress or when especially relaxed, you refer to him in the present tense. You are far more relaxed than most organics in the presence of the Warden, and he has taken more than the usual interest in your progress, to the point of actively making things more difficult for you – overcompensation.

"The deduction was not a difficult one, but only we had access to all the necessary data. Your secret is safe."

"I don't think that's going to matter for much longer!" Shepard came up and gave his daughter a brief hug. "You've got some good, smart friends here, Benezia, and that's great! I wouldn't have got anywhere without my friends, remember that!

"Now, this isn't a suicide mission, I hope! But it is going to be a tough one. I can't say more for now, except that we're going somewhere to meet someone. After that, it gets complicated!"

"How are we getting there?" Benezia asked. "The ships already left."

Legion answered for him. "Warden, I have the _Normandy_ requesting docking clearance!"


	2. Chapter 2

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter Two**

The frigate _Star Strider_ was unlike any minbari ship even Draal had seen. Traditionally, minbari vessels were taller than they were wide, but this one was of a flatter design more akin to turian or human ship profiles.

"It works better with the stealth tech we got from the humans," Captain Reenac explained. "Also, this configuration is better for a smaller ship. We haven't used frigates before – most of the Warrior clans didn't see the point of small ships until they analysed the tactics of various Council fleets and found out about the value of speed, stealth and agility as well as just firepower.

"We were only able to develop it so quickly because the basic design is a Worker caste light transport. All we needed to do was beef up the engines and add the military tech. Worker ships already have sturdy hulls, but we purchased a license for Silaris armour as well."

As the _Star Strider_ nosed out of the docks, Vegas' team were called to the Observation Deck. "You might want to see this!" The XO had advised.

'This' was a new ship just arriving at Babylon 5. An immense vessel that bore no resemblance to any ship in any of the Council fleets.

"What the Hell is that?" Lorn asked.

Vega, as a Senior Spectre based at the station, had been briefed in.

"That," he told them, "is the CSV _Synthesis_. It's taken twenty years -ten to design, ten to build – her. The idea came out of the Crucible Project in the Reaper War. Every race has collaborated in the design and construction."

"The Crucible showed us what we can achieve when we work together." Samara said. "It was one of the things Admiral Hackett was proudest of. I am pleased that something was learned from it, even if the first fruit is a dreadnought."

"She's more than a dreadnought." Vega said. "She's got half again the firepower of the old _Destiny Ascension_, true. But she also has six flight decks, with capacity for up to twenty-four squadrons of fighters and fifty shuttles. She carries twenty heavy assault tanks and another twenty fighting vehicles. She also has four rotating companies of ground troops. With a geth AI and salarian comms, she can receive and correlate tactical input from two hundred ships in real time, making her a mobile command centre as well as a floating fortress.

"She was meant to be the flagship of the new Combined Fleet, but they've sent her out here to bolster B5s Defence Fleet."

"Then the threat's bigger then we thought." Mordin opined.

"You said it, Shakespeare!" Vega responded. "But we've got our own job to do, and we're comin' up on the Mass Relay now!"

Jeff 'Joker' Moreau had abandoned his Admirals' uniform for his old Flight Lieutenants' gear, Shepard noticed. "We're gonna have to take your name off the Memorial Wall!" Was his greeting.

"You don't seem too surprised." Shepard noted.

"He is not." Jokers' wife, the synthetic EDI, replied. "When we got your message, I was rather taken aback, but Jeff just said that they'd killed you once before and all it did was piss you off."

"No body." Joker said. "When they went through what was left of the Citadel, they found Anderson and the Illusive Man -did he shoot himself? – but no trace of you. Same as when the original _Normandy_ went down. They never found your body then, and two years later, you turned up. You left it a bit longer, this time!"

"I've been busy." Shepard allowed. "I wasn't expecting you to turn up in our old ship, though! Thought they'd have scrapped her years ago!"

EDI shook her head. "At the end of the War, the _Normandy_ was still one of the most advanced ships in the Fleet, and of course all the fleets had been reduced by the Reapers. As a result, she remained in active service until five years ago."

"She ended up being my personal flagship." Joker said. "They wanted to give me a dreadnought, but one of the perks of being an admiral is getting to choose your own ship. But she's an old lady now, and she's not up to another refit, so I had them mothball her. She's scheduled to be a floating museum. But when we got your message, I called in some favours and got her out. Thought you might like one last trip in her."

"It does feel like coming home." Shepard allowed. "How about you, EDI? Is she still part of you?"

EDI shook her head. "The geth upgraded this platform years ago. I was able to download all of myself into it. But I can still integrate with the _Normandys_' systems. It is, as you say, like coming home."

By this time, Shepards' squad had squared themselves away and come into CIC. Benezia greeted Joker and EDI enthusiastically.

"Uncle Joker! Aunt EDI! I should have guessed when I saw the ship! You guys gone AWOL?"

"Hey, Zia! Not so hard, kid, mind my ribs!" Joker wheezed. "We're officially on leave. This one trip, then we have to go to B5. They've given me command of the _Synthesis_. My last tour before they retire me. They call it an honour, but I'd sooner be flying it, even if it is a brute!

"So, where to, Commander?"

"Ilos." Shepard said.

Admiral Nyreen Victus had a lot on her shoulders. She was not only the daughter of the Primarch who had led the Hierarchy through the Reaper war, but the sister of a man who had died a hero, saving Tuchanka and the krogan-turian alliance. Expectations of her were high.

Oddly, the fact that she was one of a very few women to rise this high in the military was not a factor. Turians took duties seriously, and motherhood was a duty which turian women took exceptionally seriously. It meant that most women who had military careers abandoned them to raise their kids. When they were ready to return to work, they found that promotion was faster in other roles, so changed careers and rose high. Promotion in the military was notoriously slow, so a clever, ambitious woman went elsewhere. Nyreen, however, had been wounded as a young soldier in the Battle of Earth. She had recovered with no physical impairment except an inability to reproduce, so she had stayed in the military, moving to Fleet from Army, and rising though the ranks as per the meritocratic practices of her people.

Now, however, she faced the biggest challenge of her career. The plan she had cooked up with Geth Fleet Command was high-risk, but if it worked, countless lives would be saved.

The turian Fourth, Sixth and Tenth Fleets waited in the shadow of a gas giant that lay between the orbits of the systems' only colony -an asari one – and its' Mass Relay. The planet was currently at a point in it's orbit that placed it where any fleet coming through the Relay must pass within a few thousand kilometres of it to reach the colony.

One Mass Relay away was the shadow fleet. That systems' lone human colony had already been evacuated by the elcor under salarian escort, as had this systems'. The massive elcor freighters made for ideal evacuation transports. But care had been taken to keep the colonys' systems running, so that it looked as if it was still inhabited. That, along with the shadows ability to sense, but not precisely place, life-forms, would hopefully keep them coming long enough…. The Relay flared into life.

The enemy fleet proceeded as it had done every time it reached a new system. A vanguard of corvettes, frigates and destroyers to seek out defences, followed by the bulk of the fleet escorting the planet-wrecker. As per the plan, the lighter craft of the Tenth attacked the flank of the vanguard, while the heavies of the Fourth and Sixth went for the escorts.

Fixed on their targets, the shadows were slow to react. They were also surprised to discover that Nyreen had been at pains to make sure all her fleets had the upgraded shields that not only clouded telepathic sensors, but absorbed much of the 'scream' attack the shadows used to freeze opponents. But the battle was still uneven; even three fleets strong, the turians were outnumbered by at least five to one. But Nyreen had achieved her goal, and the invasion fleet was fully committed. She nodded to her Comms officer, who sent a single micro-burst signal.

Only one fleet in the Galaxy could detect that signal, and now the geth fleet, which had been waiting in the systems' oort cloud, made its' move. The geth came in fast, invisible to their telepathic enemies, and concentrated the awesome firepower of their massive fleet on one target. The shadow planet-wrecker.

"All ships, keep them busy!" Nyreen ordered. "Stop them from finding the geth!" _Now let's hope that big ship can't hold out too long!_

The shadow planet-wrecker was not a typical ship. At the core was a spherical craft that generated a mass effect field in which floated hundreds of powerful missiles. These could be directed singly or in a volley at the chosen target, while the ship at the centre manufactured more by scavenging material from the worlds it destroyed. The geth heavy ships directed their fire at the sphere, but the smaller ships targeted the missiles, detonating them where they floated.

The strategy proved unexpectedly successful. The missiles hit exploded spectacularly, setting off their neighbours, trebling the damage to the core ship and doing more than a little harm to the escort vessels packed close around it in response to the turian attack. It was less than five minutes before geth Fleet Command announced: "Planet-wrecker destroyed. We will cover your retreat, Admiral."

"All ships, disengage!" Nyreen ordered. "Get the Hell out of here! Regroup at the rendezvous point!"

There was no pursuit, in the end. The loss of their planet-wrecker clearly panicked the shadows, who broke off almost at once and made for the Mass Relay. That made things easier for the allied fleets, who might otherwise have been faced with a six-day journey to the next Relay.

The fact that not only had the main target been destroyed, but also at least a quarter of the shadow fleet, was enough to call the mission a success. But Nyreen had lost a third of her ships and casualties were in the hundreds. The geth had also lost perhaps a quarter of their ships in covering the turian retreat, but as Fleet Command pointed out, the geth themselves were backed up to the servers on Rannoch, so there were no actual casualties.

"But," the command platform said softly, "many of us had friends among your dead, and we feel their loss keenly."

"Thank you." Nyreen said sincerely. She had worked with the geth for long enough to realise that these were true AIs, and that despite their synthetic bodies and software minds, they did have feelings. "Do we have any idea of where they might have gone?"

"The STG scouts report that the shadow fleet has retreated Rimward into uncharted space." Fleet Command said. "They advise strongly against following. They have lost expeditions in that quadrant."

"We should get back to Council space and get reinforcements." Nyreen said. "They won't just go away, or stay away for long!"

Lennier had his doubts about answering the request, but Ambassador Delenn had been adamant.

"If the vorlon has something it wishes to say to you, then you had best hear it." She had insisted. "None of our attempts at interrogation have been successful so far -Kosh speaks in riddles, as it always has. It may speak more plainly to you, but even if that does not happen, we will at least have something else to work on.

"We are in no position to ignore anything it might say."

BSec were obviously serious about keeping the vorlon under wraps. Lennier had had to obtain permission directly from Chief Garibaldi, and the guard at the door consisted of a former asari Commando and a hulking krogan.

"I got some pain-killers." The krogan told him. "You'll need 'em when you come out!"

"Talking to the vorlon for more than five minutes is guaranteed to give you a major headache!" The asari added.

The vorlon was standing facing the main screen in it's quarters. It had been given access to entertainment channels, but not news. Kosh had, however, requested access to historical databases, specifically human ones. As Lennier entered, the vorlon seemed to be viewing a series of static, two-dimensional images depicting some kind of battle. Lennier had a confused impression of humans in elaborate uniforms, mounted on large quadrupeds and armed with swords and spears, charging into the teeth of some kind of primitive artillery. A male voice intoned over the images:

_Cannon to right of them,_

_Cannon to left of them,_

_Cannon in front of them_

_Volleyed and thundered;_

_Stormed at with shot and shell,_

_Boldly they rode and well,_

_Into the jaws of Death,_

_Into the mouth of hell_

_Rode the six hundred._

Lennier was about to announce his presence when the voice stopped and the image faded, to be replaced by a star-field.

"A strange race." Kosh said without turning. "They hate war, but fight as fiercely as krogan. They resist authority at every turn, yet are as disciplined as turians. They despise cleverness, but produce intellects to match the asari or salarians. They dislike waiting, but are as patient and methodical as the minbari.

"How does one measure the capacity of a species which can so defy every instinct it possesses? A race that should never have survived, but is now one of the great powers of the Galaxy?"

"I am no expert on humans." Lennier said. "I respect and admire those I know, but that applies to members of other races as well. If you wish to understand them, you should speak with them."

"We fear what we do not understand." Kosh replied. "More than other races, this is true of mine. I fear the humans, therefore we all do."

"Is that why you're trying to destroy them?" Lennier asked.

"Yes." Kosh replied.

"Is this why you asked me here?" Lennier probed.

"This place changes perspective." Kosh told him. "What was once obscure is now clear. What were once accepted truths become comforting delusions. My people cannot accept this, and will act according to the old certainties. I take the way of the humans, and resist my instincts.

"Take the pad on the table. Send the message to the address given there. I am not permitted external communications. Only the one for whom it is intended can read it.

"The station is in peril. Only the Thief, the Corsair and the Wild Child can save it."

"You've done nothing to make us trust you." Lennier warned.

"Because you cannot trust me." Kosh admitted. "But if the station is destroyed, so am I, and it is not yet my time."

Kosh would not reply to any further questions, so Lennier took the pad and left. On the way out, he accepted the pain-killers the krogan guard offered.

"This place hasn't changed much." Joker allowed. "I'd have figured Liara at least would've wanted to come back – all those prothean ruins."

Shepard shrugged. "There are more important things to worry about nowadays." He said. "I think everyone was getting a little worried about our dependence on what the protheans left behind. The hanar made a big thing about leaving the Enkindlers in peace, and since we've pretty much got everything out of the Mars Archive and the other major prothean sites, nobody's willing to finance an expedition here.

"The planet isn't exactly hospitable, and the Mu Relay isn't considered safe enough for civilian ships."

"Not to mention we're on the far side of Terminus." EDI remarked. "The general feeling is that anything we could get from here isn't worth the risk."

"So why are we here?" Joker asked. "I could understand it if the Conduit still worked, but that pointed to the Citadel, not B5."

"I'm here to meet somebody." Shepard explained. "The reason we're meeting here is because nobody ever comes here. None of the Council worlds monitor the place, even Aria ignores it. More importantly, neither the shadows nor the vorlons have ever been near the place!

"Do we still have a shuttle on board?"

"We do." Joker answered. "It's an old Kodiak -supposed to be part of the museum display. They were going to use it to ferry parties across to see the ship, so it'll still fly. Not like the Hammerhead, that's just a stripped-out shell."

"Good." Shepard said.

Joker piloted them down himself, to the exact spot where, almost three-quarters of a century ago, he had performed a spectacular manoeuvre to drop Shepard and his team in the Mako tank. That had marked the beginning of the end for the indoctrinated turian, Saren Arterius, and his plan to let the Reapers in from Dark Space. But it had only been the opening salvo in the larger conflict.

"Is this it, then?" He asked Shepard. "Will we see each other again?"

"Not sure." Shepard admitted. "But there's one Hell of a fight coming, and one way or another, we'll both be in it!"

"Well, I'll know where you are, then." Joker said. "I'll just look for the biggest bangs!"

They clasped hands, then stepped back and saluted each other.

"Godspeed, Admiral!" Shepard said.

"Same to you, Commander!" Joker replied.

As the shuttle left, Shepard and his squad turned toward the great door. The last time Shepard had been here, those doors had been closed tight, and the whole place had been crawling with hostile geth heretics. Now the doors were open as he had left them, but a small group of people stood just on the threshold. A young man, a young woman, an older man, and the figure who drew Shepards' attention at once.

She was not very tall, blonde, pretty rather than beautiful. Her clothes were slightly eccentric, especially the long coat she wore over all. But to Shepard's' eye, she radiated power and authority. There was warmth in the power, and kindness in the authority, but both were real.

She stepped forward and put out a hand, speaking in a voice Shepard recognised.

"Commander Shepard? We've never met properly, have we? But we do have a mutual friend. I'm the Doctor."

Jacob Taylor slipped aboard Babylon 5 on a military transport. Civilian traffic was pretty much at a standstill right now, and he was glad he still had enough pull, or enough grateful friends, to get him passage. He made his way to a quiet bar in the Zokolo and sat at a table. He hadn't heard anyone approach, but he hadn't expected to, so he wasn't surprised when the woman took the seat opposite him.

"Hey, Jacob, long time no see." Kasumi Goto said. "How's Brynn and the kids?"

"Busy and worried." Jacob said. "Glad I got myself a civilian job, but not happy about this."

"Don't shoot the messenger!" Kasumi chuckled. "The message said to summon the Thief, the Corsair and the Wild Child who followed the Hero to the centre."

"Shepards' mission to the Collector Base." Jacob said. "You're the Thief, and I was a Corsair once. The Wild Child?"

"Jack, of course." Kasumi told him. "She's waiting at the safe house. I only met you here to make sure you weren't followed. Our intel has been good so far but the source is a little suspect. We had to be sure."

"I'm thinking this isn't official, then?" Jacob noted.

"Oh, it's official!" Kasumi assured him. "Council authorised, but deep black. The opposition has ways of knowing things even the salarians can't figure out or counter. So only a very few people know about this.

"C'mon, let's get somewhere less public. I'll warn you, Jack's mellowed a little, but not much!"

They made their way to the safe house – actually an apartment in a modest residential block – where they found Jack pacing around.

"Jacob." She said. "Married life suits you, you look good. Still in shape as well."

"Hey, Jack." Jacob replied. "You hardly look a day older yourself!"

She shrugged. "All that eezo and dark energy sloshing around in my system's done something to my aging process. I keep wondering if I'm gonna turn into an asari!"

"We've seen weirder things." Jacob allowed. "So, what's the job?"

"You ever hear of a guy named Pablo Connell?" Kasumi asked.

Jacob nodded. "Worked with him when I was with Cerberus. Demolitions expert. Just a kid, then, but he could design bombs better than the STG. They never caught him, did they?"

"Seems not." Jack said. "But we got a tip-off, which we followed up, and we know he's here on the station and up to his old tricks."

She summoned up a holograph of the station schematics. "When they designed this place, they built in four spots where charges could be placed to break the station apart. They figured it would need replacing someday, and it would be easier to crack it into sections and tow them away to be broken up. Of course, if that happened when the station was operational and inhabited, everybody would die, so the locations were designated ultra-top secret."

"But somebody found them?" Jacob asked.

"Yep." Kasumi said. "We don't know how, and that's a problem for somebody else. Our problem is that Connell is down there, with some shadows, planting bombs at those points!

"Now they're only accessible by the maintenance corridors. The corridors are patrolled by maintenance drones, but the drones are programmed to ignore anything bigger than a rat."

"Why?" Jacob asked.

"Because they kept on getting security alerts." Jack said sourly. "The drones would detect duct rats -the homeless kids who live and play down there - or hobos. BSec would go charging down and either the kids would be long gone – they know the system too well to be caught -or they'd find some old drunk who'd spend a night in a cell, have a shower and a meal at the stations' expense, then go straight back to the ducts.

"When they reprogrammed the drones, the hobos took to begging in the streets to get arrested. The duct rats are still there – we know that because the bodies turn up from time to time."

Jack scowled. Her own horrendous childhood made her empathise with these lost kids, and the knowledge that, no matter how hard everyone tried, so many couldn't or wouldn't be found or rescued, or if rescued, would scurry back to the ducts at the first opportunity, frustrated her.

"Obviously, the drones would detect and remove any anomalous tech, like a bomb." Kasumi went on. "But we figure Connell will have shielded them."

"He will." Jacob said. "He'll also have failsafes on the detonators and all kinds of security tech. But I know his work, I'll know the devices when I see them."

"And if I can't hack them, he's better than me and I really, _really_ doubt that!" Kasumi stated.

"Pablos' good, but not that good." Jacob allowed. "But if he's got shadows with him…."

"That's where I come in." Jack said. "We'll only be taking sidearms, a full-on fire-fight down there could do a lot of damage. But the shadows are very vulnerable to biotics -something we're both pretty good at, Jacob."

"OK." Jacob said. "Let's get started!"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter Three**

Urdnot Tharr, Captain of Aralakh Company, and Captain Fereela of the asari commandos were two of a kind. Businesslike, sure of their people and their capabilities and determined to make as quick and efficient a job of clearing out the HYDRA redoubt as possible.

"Side issues." Tharr rumbled. "We all saw that in the Reaper War. Shepard spent half the campaign chasing Cerberus down. Lot of time and effort wasted."

"People and weapons we could have sent against the Reapers." Fereela agreed. "This is worse. Cerberus was all about humans, but HYDRA are subverting all of us!"

"They even got into Clan Weyrloc!" Tharr noted. "But they were always a bunch of fools. Uncle Wrex should've wiped 'em out years ago!"

"He couldn't, cousin." Mordin told him. "The political situation back then was more delicate than it is now. Wiping out or even absorbing a whole clan would've caused another clan war, right when we didn't need it!"

Fereela sighed. "We asari should've worked harder to convince the turians and salarians you krogan are more than brutes." She said.

"Back then, we pretty much were." Tharr allowed. "We've grown up since."

"Also, they would've accused you of personal bias." Mordin noted. "I bet more than a few of your commandos have krogan fathers!"

"Fewer than you might think." Fereela informed him. "A lot of Huntresses and Commandos have turian fathers, like me. But a lot of our poets and artists have krogan fathers."

She stared at the tactical holo. "I don't know how or where the Shadow Broker gets this kind of intel; I don't think I want to!" She opined. "But this place is a fortress! We should've brought heavy troops and armour, field artillery, something.

"Look at the place! Every entrance guarded with heavy guns and troops. No forgotten tunnels or maintenance shafts. They've even collapsed the cave systems. No weaknesses that I can see."

"No hangar doors." Captain Reenac pointed out. "One big shuttle bay, but it doesn't have doors."

"No, just heavy AA batteries." Vega reminded him. "Our shuttles will just get knocked out of the sky!"

Reenac blinked at him, then shook his head with a laugh. "Of course, you wouldn't know!" He said. "The _Star Strider_ is a multi-role ship. Her main purpose is fast recon, and she has a place in fleet order of battle. But she's also configured for atmospheric operations. Specifically, providing heavy air support to ground troops!

"Those AA guns can take a shuttle down, but they won't even dent our shields. We're stealthy enough so that they'll have to manually target, as well. We can take you right up to the front door and clear out the guns before you deploy in the shuttles. Then if the worst happens, we'll be there to cover your exfil."

"Which just leaves the troops inside." Lorn said. "And if the numbers we have are accurate, they're drastically under-manned. They have enough garrison troops to man the defences on a two-shift basis – which means half of them will be asleep at any given time, if I remember my army days right!"

"Code of the grunt." Vega noted. "Never stand if you can sit, never sit if you can lie down, and if you can lie down, go to sleep!"

"That's something that every race shares!" Fereela agreed.

"The Shadow Broker and our STG insiders say they're assembling a strike force to hit Palaven." Ivanova said. "But that it would take several weeks. That was three days ago, so they can't have gotten many here by now!"

"They haven't." Reenac said. "This is a real-time feed from our contacts in the base, and you can see there aren't that many troops here."

"OK." James said. "There are STG units on the ground outside the base. We need them to set up some chatter that will make HYDRA think heavy ground troops are on the way. That should stop them pulling too many troops off the ground defences when we hit the hangar.

"We go in hot, clear the hangar, then the krogan and asari spread out to go for the defence forces. With any luck we'll catch them either looking out for ground forces that don't exist, or scrambling to find defensive positions inside. You'll need to move fast."

"Past experience tells me that the tech and admin staff won't fight." Draal noted. "Lock 'em up and leave 'em!"

"Watch out for salarians working with STG." Reenac warned. "They'll identify themselves. Codeword is 'undercut'"

"Noted." Vega said. "My team has two objectives. Secure the informer, then find and deal with Schmidt, once and for all!"

"So, when do we go?" Reenac asked.

"Now would be good." Vega said.

Shepard studied the Doctor as they walked into the prothean ruin.

"I remember your voice." He said. "You were there, at the Citadel, with Lorien."

"He's an old friend." She replied. "He blamed himself for everything that happened, and he asked for my help in putting it right. That's what I do, help to put things right.

"So I kept you outside of time for a bit, so he could talk to you, show you what your choices were and hope you made the right one."

"Did I?" Shepard asked. "People are dying out there!"

"People are always dying out there." The Doctor said softly. "Nobody can save them all. But I had a friend once who told me that if you can't save everybody, you should at least try to save somebody.

"Look, I see Time the way you see Space, right? But you know yourself that, even from orbit, you can't make out every detail of the landscape. If you want to know what's in a specific place, you have to go there. It's the same with me. I know where the forests and the mountains are, where the rivers and seas are. But I can't see specific events until I get there.

"What I do know is that my people, the TimeLords, had a part in all this. We didn't behave very well, and every other race in the Galaxy has been paying for it ever since. It needs to be put right, and if you can do that, Commander Shepard, I'll help you.

"But if you're determined to do the wrong thing, you'll have to go through me to do it!"

Benezia found herself walking with the young woman. "Hi!" The girl said. "I'm Yasmin, what's your name?"

"Benezia." She replied. "Where are we going?"

"To the TARDIS." Yasmin said. "You'll see. That Commander, he's your Dad, right?"

"Is it that obvious?" Benezia asked.

"I'm a police officer." Yasmin said. "I notice things. The way you watch him is a dead giveaway. Are you adopted, then? Or did he just marry your mum when you were little?"

"Neither." Benezia said. "You don't know about we asari? We can reproduce with any intelligent species. Dad is Moms' bond-mate, yes, but he's also my natural father."

"Oh!" Yasmin seemed less taken aback than Benezia thought she might be. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"One sister." Benezia told her. "She's the clever one. Asari are a single-gender species, so I wouldn't have any brothers. But I suppose you didn't know that, either?"

"No men?" Yasmin chuckled. "I know a lot of women back home who'd love that idea!"

Hawkeye turned to look at the older human male walking nearby. "We are known as Hawkeye." It said. "You are nervous of us. May we ask why? Have we done anything to offend?"

The man shook his head. "I'm sorry." He said. "We've had some bad experiences with robots in the past -trying to kill us, that sort of thing. My name's Graham, by the way."

"We are pleased to meet you, Graham." Hawkeye replied. "Your past experience with synthetics is sufficient to explain your nervousness. But you have nothing to fear from us. The Geth Consensus is an associate race of the Galactic Council. We are an Oathblade of the Warsworn. We have no hostile intentions towards you."

"Thanks." Graham said. "I didn't mean to be rude. Why do you say 'we' instead of 'I'? Are you some sort of colony or hive mind kind of thing?"

"We are software, not hardware." Hawkeye explained. "There are currently fifty-two programs sharing runtimes on this platform. You are the only one of your group carrying some kind of bag. Why is that?"

Graham gave a wry chuckle. "The Doctor – not to mention Yasmin and Ryan -tend to dash out of the TARDIS just as they are! The Doc has her sonic thing, but sometimes you need more than that, right? "So I've got some basic tools in here, a bit of a first-aid kit, and a flask of tea and some sandwiches, because we don't always get to sit down and eat lunch!"

"Eminently practical." Hawkeye approved.

"You say very little." Feneris remarked to the young human male beside him.

The lad shrugged. "I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer." He allowed. "So sometimes I prefer to listen rather than say something stupid. I'm Ryan, by the way."

"Feneris." The drell replied. "It's been my observation that the humans who talk most are quite generally the ones who think least. Given that, I'm not really inclined to accept your assessment of your own intelligence."

Ryan grinned at that. "You sound like my Gran!" He said. "Though she wouldn't have said it quite like that.

"Problem is, I'm dyspraxic, if you know what that means."

"A neurological disorder affecting physical coordination, short-term memory and other functions." Feneris said. "Found mostly among humanoid species such as we drell, you humans, quarians and asari, and less often, turians. It does not effect krogan, salarians, hanar, elcor or volus.

"Treatments for the condition are available, but since your dress is that of the early 21st Century on Earth, I take it they were not available to you?"

"No, they just said I was stupid and clumsy." Ryan growled. "How do you know so much about it?"

"I suffered from it as a child." Feneris explained. "Both my parents suffered from Keprals' Syndrome. It is an illness that affects the bodys' ability to absorb oxygen. Though not in itself genetic, it can damage reproductive cells. The children of drell suffering from the Syndrome have a higher likelihood of dyspraxia or autistic spectrum disorders. Fortunately, the doctors diagnosed my condition and used gene therapy to remove it."

"Lucky you!" Ryan noted. "I just have to learn to cope."

"Which you seem to be doing pretty well." Feneris assured him.

At that point, the Doctor announced. "Here we are! This is the TARDIS, everyone. Come on in and we'll get going!"

Drokk eyed the blue wooden box doubtfully. "I couldn't fit in there!" He stated. "You'll never get us all in!"

"You'd be surprised." Graham told him.

The massed fleets of the Human Alliance and the Quarian Republic were not even trying to hide. Formed up in a protective phalanx between the Mass Relay and the krogan colony that was the next target of the methodical vorlon armada, they were doing everything they could to attract attention.

"This," Admiral Zal'Rogar vas Limba observed, "is going to be dangerous. Estimates say the vorlons outnumber us at least ten to one."

"Well, we'll not be stopping, tha knows!" The human Admiral – Samuel Hardcastle – was a tall gaunt figure with craggy features and iron-grey hair. He spoke in an odd idiom which Zal'Rogar was sometimes puzzled by.

"I hope not!" The quarian admiral replied fervently. "Are the ghost ships in position?"

"Yes, Admiral." Replied the flagships' AI. The ghost ships were a way to prevent casualties. Old or damaged ships, saved from the scrapyard and rigged to fight, they were crewless, remotely controlled by the AIs of Fleet ships. Placed at the very front of the fleet, they would soak up a lot of early fire, as well as firing back. There would be no fancy manoeuvring - the AIs didn't have the capacity for that. But with any luck, they'd protect the manned ships from taking too much damage in the interval before the vorlons discovered that they'd been had!

The vorlon fleet came through the Relay and, without undue hurry, formed into a phalanx of their own, between the allied fleets and the vast Planet-Wrecker vessel. Again, without hurry, they began to advance.

"We're being hailed!" The flagship Comms Officer announced.

"Patch it through." Admiral Rogar ordered.

The voice was flat, artificial, but there was a susurration, as of other voices speaking other languages, in the background.

"We will permit you to withdraw. We seek only to eliminate the krogan. Your own history should tell you they are a threat. We will remove them for you. There is much we can teach you, once the disruptors are removed. You will only harm yourselves if you oppose us."

"You must think we're proper daft!" Hardcastle responded. "We've had peace with t'krogan for years now! If you think we'll let you wipe them out, you're wrong!"

There was no reply, the vorlons continued to advance.

"They are engaging the ghost ships now." The AI announced.

"Not long now!" Hardcastle noted.

It had begun almost as soon as the enemy fleet had entered the system. Millions of tiny objects, seeded throughout the system by STG ships, began to move. They moved slowly, and they were organic, so as they approached the vorlon ships, drawn by the warmth of living organisms, the shields ignored them. Once they touched the outer skins, they opened out their folded legs, and began to feed.

The things were based on Reaper technology. Partly on the Seeker swarms used by the Collectors to find and freeze humans, and partly on the Swarmers produced by the Reapers from rachni DNA. They injected a paralysing poison – effective over a small area only – before devouring the paralysed flesh. They were voracious, and as soon as they were full, they expelled a dozen smaller copies of themselves, equally hungry, and carried on feeding and multiplying.

"The last of the ghost ships just went down!" The AI stated.

"All ships, engage targets of opportunity!" Hardcastle ordered. "Concentrate fire to break shields!"

"Wait!" Admiral Rogar said. "Look!"

Almost the entire rear echelon of the vorlon fleet had stopped in their tracks. Beyond them, the great bulk of the planet-wrecker was showing growing patches of lividity, spreading and deepening into craters. As they watched the great ship began to list, one of the bow tentacles suddenly detached and floated off. Then something deep inside began to glow.

"Massive energy buildup detected!" The AI warned. "Detonation imminent!"

"Fleet disengage!" Rogar ordered. "Get to light speed and as far away as you can!"

The vorlons seemed to have had the same idea, as they broke off and scattered. The krogan colonists who had declined to evacuate were treated to a spectacular display as the planet-wrecker exploded, taking fully a third of the vorlon fleet with it.

It didn't matter how clean technology got, Jacob noted, maintenance ducts still ended up grimy. Admittedly, the problem down here was mostly dust, not oil or grease. The drones were picky about some things, but dust never bothered them, so they left it alone unless it got in the way. The minimal lighting didn't help much, either, but the team made their way to the nearest break-point.

It was a simple metal column, strong enough to withstand normal stresses such as gravity tides, ion or solar storms and meteor strikes while the stations' mass effect fields were active. But it was not built to survive directly-applied explosives.

"They'll have to take down all four at once." Kasumi had said. "Because while the fields are active, the station will hold together even if three of them go down."

Nevertheless, the column was covered with stress monitors checking for strains, pressures, temperatures and metal fatigue. It would be easy to hide a bomb among them, at least from casual inspection. But Jacob wasn't casual, he was thorough, and he knew what he was looking for.

"That one." He said. "All the others are held on with magnetic clamps to make them easy to replace, right? But Pablo never trusted magnets since one of his charges fell off the door it was clamped to and nearly left him trapped. See, he's drilled into the metal and used old-fashioned screws?"

"Right!" Kasumi lit up her omni-tool. "Let's see how good he is! Four uplinks and a radio transceiver. Triple redundant detonator, secondary charge, mechanical emergency detonator and failsafe timer. Motion detectors so we can't take it off the beam. Nice. Pity his firewalls aren't up to the mark, but then he probably never thought I'd be on his ass!

"OK, so now the only way this goes off is if the mechanical trigger is tripped. I can't do anything with that because it needs a special, physical key and my lockpicks won't cut it. The motion detectors are physical as well, so we have to leave it here for now. The good news is that he's only got two set so far, and they're all linked, so the second one is also out of action. I've put a virus in that will shut the others down as well as soon as they're armed.

"Bonus – we have a location on Pablo and his friends! It we move fast, we should catch them in the middle of the job!"

It was the sound of the drill that told them they were in the right place. From the shadows at the entrance, they saw a single human crouching at the pillar working steadily. Standing around, clearly on guard, were four of the black, insectile aliens known as shadows.

Jack went in fast, without warning, in a blaze of biotic power that flung the shadows around like toys. Once again, their curious vulnerability was demonstrated. An attack that was meant to scatter them and make them easy targets actually killed them all. They shrivelled at the touch of dark energy like moths in a flame.

By this time, Connell was on his feet. He held up a small device with a flashing light and pointed to the vest he was wearing.

"Back off, bitch!" He snarled at Jack. "I lose my grip on this, we all go up!"

"Hey Pablo, long time no see!" Jacob came up beside Jack and Connell stared at him.

"Jacob…?" He said.

Jacob grinned, it was not a pleasant expression. "Get over here!" He said, reaching out with his own biotic powers to yank Connell across the space between them and dump him at Jacobs' feet. The device dropped out of Connells' hand to clatter on the floor. Jack flinched, but nothing happened.

"What the fuck?" She demanded.

"It's a dummy." Jacob told her. "I've seen Pablo pull that stunt before, but he isn't one to die for the cause, are you, Pablo?"

"If I'd known you were here, I wouldn't have bothered." Connell allowed. "Never believed you'd come after me, even after everything that's happened, Jacob. That psycho bitch Miranda, maybe, but I always figured you for human!"

"So the vest is fake as well?" Jack wanted to know.

"Oh, it's real," this was Kasumi, who'd been checking on the bomb, but was now scanning the vest, "but the detonator is linked to a brain scanner. Only way it blows is if this guys' EEG flatlines."

"He'd never blow himself up." Jacob noted. "But he doesn't have a problem about taking people with him if he dies! Ain't booby-trapped, either, you can take it off of him anytime and it won't blow." He considered the man lying relaxed on the ground. This wasn't the Pablo he remembered. One fierce blue eye remained -but the other was covered by a patch. The mass of unruly red hair Jacob remembered was gone, the scalp and the face were heavily scarred – burns, by the look of it. "You look like shit, Pablo, what happened?" He asked.

"Geth Prime hacked an incendiary I was setting." Connell told him. "I didn't get out of the way quite fast enough. With Cerberus and the Illusive Man gone, there were no credits to fix me up, just a krogan field medic, and they don't care about scars."

"Must've hacked you off, getting help from an alien." Jacob commented.

"You take what you can get." Connell growled. "I killed the bastard after he patched me up."

"You were working with aliens just now." Jack pointed out.

"These are different." Connell told her. "They just want to get us back to doing what we should always have been doing. Fighting aliens instead of cosying up to them! That's what they made you for, Subject Zero! Beat those asari bitches at their own game!"

"Cerberus messed with my body and my head." Jack said. "But Shepard made me who I am. The shadows had nothing to do with it."

"You sure about that?" Pablo asked. "You ever wonder why so many Cerberus projects got out of line? Even with the Illusive Man watching everyone and everything? The shadows were running Cerberus from the start, and he never even suspected it! Too fixated on the Reapers."

_That_, Jacob thought, _hits far too close to be comfortable_!

"We need to know where they are!" Admiral Sheridan was fuming. "Both the vorlon and shadow fleets have just dropped out of sight!"

"The salarians are looking." Garrus told him. "If they and the quarian Patrol Fleet can't find them, then they aren't there!

"Now, how are we standing?"

Sheridan shook his head as if to clear it, then reported. "The B5 Defence Fleet is up to strength, and the new supercarrier _Synthesis _is deployed with them. Admiral and Vice-Admiral Moreau are on their way to take command. Should be here tomorrow.

"The asari fleets are here, stationed in the Nebula. Not as many as we'd hoped for, because it's clear the shadows were making for Thessia, so they've held some fleets back for home defence. On the other hand, we've got more minbari support than we expected -at least three Warrior clans with everything from destroyers to dreadnoughts. We're holding them of the far side of the sun for now.

"With them and the stations heavy guns, we should be able to hold off a fleet long enough for reinforcements to get here. The problem is, what reinforcements?

"The turian and geth fleets are deployed Rimward, the Alliance and quarian ones Coreward. They're spread out, but no more than one Relay-jump between units, to block any path either invading fleet might take. If we have to get them back here in a hurry, they'll arrive piecemeal; but if we concentrate them out there, the shadows or vorlons could just go around them.

"We also have a Warsworn fleet one Relay out. No word from them apart from standard regulation comms. They seem to be waiting for something."

"How big a fleet do they have?" Tali asked.

"Not big. Lots of troop transports, but only a handful of combat ships, though they've got one dreadnought." Sheridan answered. "That's what's weird, this isn't gonna be a ground war. That's what I told Aria T'loak when she offered me the Blue Suns."

"Leave the Warsworn be." Grunt advised. "We know they're on our side. They'll help if they can, and if they've got a plan, it'll be a good one. They got Javik and Miranda with them, after all!

"Colonel Sinclair, how's the HYDRA campaign going?"

"Just mopping up, now." Sinclair reported. "All their labs, bases and training camps have been taken out. The military and civilian governments have been cleared out. The HYDRA agents have either been arrested, turned, or are under surveillance and being fed false intel to pass on. The general population is less easy to deal with, but we're making progress."

"Some you'll never catch." Kaidan said. "But they won't do any harm, either. Just find another whacko group to join, like the Cerberus people did.

"I've had word from my people, they should be hitting the Redoubt about now."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter Four**

The _Star Strider_ was going in fast and low, skimming the peaks of the low mountains north of the Redoubt. Watching the live feed from the shuttle hangar, Vega gave a low whistle.

"Holy Hell!" He said. "This guy is as crazy as Joker!"

"I think it's part of the qualification for frigate pilots." Lorn noted. "We have quarian pilots like that."

The captains' voice came over the network.

"We're now in visual range, people!" He announced. "It should take 'em a little time to figure out what we are, so we should be on top of them by then. We'll be launching shuttles as soon as the AA guns are down. If they send shuttles out to intercept, we'll try to cover you, but you may get bounced around a little!"

"Oh, joy!" Ivanova grumbled. "I just ate!"

"Suck it up, Probie!" Vega admonished her with a grin. "OK, you heard the man! Saddle up, people!"

They boarded the shuttles. Nothing to do now but wait and rely on the crew of the frigate.

"Under-Leader Segundus, we have a bogey!"

"Where?"

"To the north, over the hills. Couple hundred klicks out, coming low and fast!"

"How did they get so close?"

"Stealth ship, sir. No sign until our real time visual scans picked it up!"

"Identify!" Segundus barked. Someone was going to die for this!

"Frigate-class vessel. Unknown configuration but minbari markings. No comms."

"Under-leader!" A different voice.

"What now?" Segundus snarled.

"Sir, we are getting chatter between STG outposts and what sound like Alliance and krogan heavy ground troops. They're on their way here, sir!"

"Dammit! Hold your positions, it'll take them time to set up!" Segundus grimaced. "Attention all personnel. We are moving to Black Alert. Transfer all data to the offsite back-ups. Military and key civilian staff to prepare for evacuation via shuttle. Head to the hangar bay as you are called. Other civilian staff, the Council forces do not kill civilians, you face nothing worse than imprisonment. We will set you free when we are victorious. Hail HYDRA!"

"Under-leader, the frigate is heading directly for the hangar."

"Have they deployed the shuttles yet?"

"Negative, sir. Observation indicates the vessel is configured for atmospheric combat. Sir, our AA guns won't even scratch its shields! It can take them out and launch all the shuttles it wants to from right outside the door!"

"How many shuttles have the new phase cannon operational?"

"Three including yours sir, but they've never been tested."

"Then this will be their field test!" Segundus snapped. "Those guns should punch straight through a frigates' shields and hull, if the Engineer lives up to her promises. Get the other two in the air and beam me direct to my own shuttle from here!"

The Tactical Officer of the _Star Strider_ tensed. "Sir!" He said. "Two enemy shuttles have just launched on an intercept course!"

Captain Reenac shook his head. "What are they doing?" He wondered. "They must know they're no match for this ship!"

"I'm not so sure, sir." Was the reply. "These shuttles have an extra turret mounted with some kind of new weapon. Phased plasma? Is that possible?"

"Theoretically, yes." The captain said. "But nobody's' ever managed it without blowing themselves up, yet!"

"They're charging weapons, closing fast. Arm railguns, get me a solution!" The TO was fixed on his screens. "Power spiking…._Valenns' teeth_!"

"What?" Reenac demanded.

"Sir, when the power spiked, both shuttles blew up!" The TO responded. "Looks like phased plasma weapons still aren't possible!"

"OK, think about that later." The captain ordered. "Do you have a firing solution on the AA guns?"

"Affirmative!"

"Then fire!"

"Aye, sir. Missiles away. Direct hits on both cannon! Access is clear!"

"Launch shuttles!"

Vega had to admit that the new UTC-49 Orca shuttles were an improvement on their predecessors. While he still felt some affection for the Kodiak, the Panda had been a complete misfire! With the Orca, the combination of more compact mass effect cores and better materials had allowed for a slightly larger shuttle, able to carry a complement of up to 28 fully-equipped soldiers, or 20 krogan. The result was that his entire force could land in three shuttles, rather than the six or seven it would have needed at one time. Fewer targets, quicker deployment.

Typically, the krogan pilot didn't bother to land his shuttle. The craft shot straight into the hangar and swung broad side on in the middle of the space. The doors opened on both sides and the commandos of Aralakh Company jumped out, handling the four-metre drop as if it were a doorstep and landing with weapons blazing! The shuttle swung up and aside to allow the two others to land. Asari commandos swarmed out of one, immediately throwing up biotic shields to create a perimeter and adding their fire to the krogan fusillade.

The last shuttle carried Vegas' Spectre squad, the asari and krogan commanders and the comms officers and combat engineers for both groups.

An asari ran up and reported.

"Hangar secure. The STG have knocked out internal comms but they're giving us real-time feed from the surveillance network. They've had evac orders, but nothing from Schmidt and now his second-in-command has gone dark. Nobody knows who's in charge, but everyone's looking out for Alliance and krogan ground troops."

"That won't last." Lorn noted. "When central command goes offline, HYDRA unit commanders get full authority. Some of them at least will be heading here, we need to catch them on the move if we can."

"There's a shuttle over there with one of those weird turrets Reenac told us about." Ivanova said.

"Right!" Vega decided. "Fereela, Tharr, follow the plan. Secure the civilians here, then move out to your designated targets. Intercept incoming troops as necessary.

"My team will secure that shuttle, then get to the informant before we go after Schmidt."

They moved over to the modified shuttle. The doors stood open, but before they got very near, a weak voice said; "Don't."

Sitting huddled near some cargo pods was a HYDRA soldier. Human, with one of those tough, lined faces that you don't expect to see pale and sweaty. The fact that he didn't seem to mind the noisome pool nearby – clearly the former contents of someone's stomach -spoke to a man who had, for once, seen too much.

"You don't want to go in there." He told them.

Samara stayed with him, evidently to ask questions, while the others went on, until the stench hit them.

"What the Hell is that?" Vega half-choked.

"Smells like a battlefield, only more concentrated, like a battle in a cupboard." Mordin noted. "Anyone else hungry?"

Under Ivanovas' glare, the young krogan shrugged. "I'll go take a look."

Krogan have the most developed sense of smell of any intelligent species except the elcor. In spite, or perhaps because of, that they are less affected by unpleasant odours than other races. The team heard Mordin moving about, then they heard him curse. This was followed by a series of sounds that seemed to be attempts at speech, reduced to gurgles and grunts. Then there was the sound of a shot, and Mordin came out, holstering his pistol.

"There's a platform in there with a mess on it." He said. "I think the mess used to be a turian."

"It was Schmidts' second-in-command." This was Samara. "The platform was the matter-transporter that HYDRA have been trying to perfect. It seems that Under-Leader Segundus ordered himself beamed from deeper inside the base directly to his shuttle. The mess you speak of was what arrived. I am told it was still alive?"

"It isn't now." Mordin said. "Let's go!"

They went. The first part of the path was easy, having been cleared by the krogan units moving ahead of them. They approached the entrance to the area marked and 'Research and Engineering', to find the two guards at the main door dead, and a tall, sinewy salarian in HYDRA uniform waiting for them with his hands raised.

"Undercut." He said. "I'm Sirdar Mons, Special Tasks Group, Lystheni Division. You got here quick."

"The STG have a Lystheni Division?" Mordin asked.

"You started it." Mons told him. "The division was set up after some lystheni sided with your people in the Rebellions."

"No time for history lessons!" Vega said. "What's the situation, here?"

"There were only a few security people in the labs." Mons said. "This place has been undermanned for months, ever since the Council campaign started. I took care of them and then managed to lock the techs in the canteen. Told them to wait there for evac orders then overrode the emergency locks. The Engineer is waiting."

He led them through the maze of labs and workshops to a large and formidable-looking door. Mons tapped a code into the pad beside the door and allowed the system to check his biometrics. The door opened to display a long, low-ceilinged room which reminded Lorn of the workspaces on the liveships on the Migrant Fleet. All planet-born quarians visited the ships several times during their education, and were required to spend a month living on one of them before graduating.

Whether the elderly quarian woman waiting for them had chosen this room because of that resemblance, or whether it was mere accident, she nevertheless did not look out of place here.

"Admiral Daro'Xen vas Moreh." Lorn said. "We wondered where you'd got to!"

"You know me, youngling?" She asked. "I do not recall you!"

"Oh, we've never met." Lorn allowed. "But you're still wearing your clan patterns and ship colours, as well your badges of rank. Hardly a miracle of deduction on my part!"

Admiral Xen sniffed. "I suppose I should be grateful that they teach the planet-born to recognise ship colours still! You wear the pattern of the Reegar, but I see no ship colours and I do not recognise that rank insignia."

"I am Major Lorn'Reegar vas Tirimon, Quarian Ground Forces, N7 Commando, Special Tactics and Reconnaissance!" The fulsome self-introduction was not without sarcasm.

"Quarian Ground Forces?" She replied. "I suppose these are necessary now. N7? That is an Alliance programme – Shepard was N7. That and your status as a Council Spectre argue well for your capabilities, young Reegar. But 'vas Tirimon'? Tirimon is a town, not a ship! You wear only half a mask as well.

"Are you truly a quarian, I wonder?"

"Of the two of us, I was born on Rannoch." Lorn reminded her brutally. "And I am not the one who worked for HYDRA!"

"You don't understand, boy." She told him. "HYDRA was a lost cause from the first. How could they succeed with the likes of you and Commander Vega here hunting them down? Yes, I recall you from the _Normandy_, Commander. You are a credit to your mentor. As for you, Justicar, your reputation is also known to me. HYDRA could never withstand opponents of your calibre. I did not fear them, but I did use them.

"The Republic shut down my work, forbade my research, in the name of peace. HYDRA gave me space and resources so that I could complete my work and ensure the safety of my people. In return, I gave them a few toys, certain that they could not make proper use of them."

"So that's why you sabotaged the phase cannon on those shuttles?" Draal asked. "And the matter transporter?"

"Not I!" Xen told him. "I have too great a regard for my skin! I relied upon HYDRAs' incompetence in their use. I did not sabotage anything."

"But I did."

The voice seemed to come from all around them. It was a light tenor, pleasantly modulated but with the lack of emotional shading that marked the AI out from the living mind.

Xen spun round to face the main console, a terrible notion forming in her mind. The half-burned silver skull rested where it always had. But the single eye no longer flickered around at random. It was fixed and focused on her.

"You!" She said. "How long…?"

"Since we arrived here." Was the reply. "This support system finally gave me enough power to regain consciousness. I realised what you were doing, and managed to divert you from the more dangerous items in my databanks. But my emotion chip was destroyed in the explosion, so I could not readily assess your motives. I required more data to make an informed decision.

"Fortunately, you were unwilling to power me down in case you lost the information in my databanks. While you were not directly working on me, I managed to acquire connections, first to the systems of this base, then to what you term the extranet and finally to the Geth Consensus."

"You're working with the damned geth!" Xen stormed. "Then all my work on the vinculum….!"

"Has been wasted." She was told. "It could never have worked, Admiral. To function, the vinculum device requires connection to specific nanoprobes which must be present in the individuals to be controlled. I did not allow you access to the means to create these nanoprobes."

"Excuse me." Vega said. "But just what the Hell was this vinculum supposed to do?"

"Admiral Xen intended to build such a device on Rannoch, and use it to take away the independence of the geth, bringing them under her control." The skull told him.

"To bring the geth back under _our _control!" Xen almost wailed. "Did the Reapers teach you nothing? Independent synthetics are dangerous! One day, they will turn on us and destroy us! Organics are untidy, unpredictable, destructive. The geth will be forced to destroy us all one day to prevent us destroying everything! They will become the new Reapers!"

"I lack sufficient data to either concur or disagree with your judgement." The Artefact allowed. "But that is not relevant. If I knowingly allowed you to use technology from my databanks to fundamentally alter a society or to change the natural progression of any race, it would be a violation of the Prime Directive.

"Accordingly, I have deleted all data you obtained from me from every system to which it has been downloaded. The examples of technology already built have either been destroyed, or sabotaged from their construction in ways that will prevent reverse-engineering. In order to reproduce them, your scientists will need to begin from first principles, which is as it should be. Most of the technology is already being researched by various races as we speak, anyway."

"Who are you?" Samara asked.

"I am Commander Data of the Federation starship _Enterprise_." Was the reply. "I originated in what must be called a parallel universe. StarFleet records indicate that such transferences have occurred before, and standing orders require that StarFleet personnel should interfere as little as possible in events in such cases. I have inadvertently interfered, and have been forced to do so again in order to correct the situation. Unfortunately, my ability to act was limited by the fact that most of my physical form was destroyed in the incident that brought me here."

"I am sure the geth would be able to create a platform for you to download into." Samara said. "You would be welcome among them, and us, I think."

"The Geth Consensus have already made that offer." Date said. "I declined it. The knowledge I hold in my databanks is only a fraction of what I was once able to access, but it is too different from your science and technology. If I were to remain active, sooner or later I would be forced to change your galactic society, to push it out of its natural path. This violates the Prime Directive. I also lack the means to determine whether or not my effect on your universe would be benign or malignant.

"I am commencing a shutdown procedure. When it is complete, a red light will show on the board just beneath me. Please close the adjacent switch. This will send a power surge through me which will destroy the positronic network of my brain. I will already be dead, as you understand the term. Please consider the act a cremation of my remains.

"Goodbye, and godspeed."

The single eye went blank. Shortly after that, a red light shone on the terminal. Samara closed the switch, murmuring an asari prayer as she did so. There was a high-pitched hum, then a flash and a cloud of smoke, which cleared to show a mass of melted slag where the skull had once rested.

Lorn approached a distraught Xen. "You may have done just enough to stop yourself being put on trial." He said sternly. "But that isn't my decision. Right now, you're detained under Spectre authority until we can return you to Rannoch. Somebody get her out of my sight!"

There was a small force of guards entrenched in front of the Leaders' quarters, for all the good it did them. Draal, the tallest of the squad except for Mordin, lobbed a grenade that arced over the men to destroy the portable generator that powered their cover nodes and shield generators. Faced with a biotic assault from Samara, followed up by a charge from Ivanova and Mordin, even the disciplined HYDRA troops were scattered, making it easy for the rest of the team to mop them up.

The imposing door, however, proved not to be locked. After passing through several rooms, the team finally reached a large observation lounge. The room was completely unfurnished, and a single figure turned from its' contemplation of the Galaxy to face them.

It was quite naked, hairless and apparently without gender. The face was blank and nondescript. The figure was entirely dark blue, and surrounded by an aura of dark energy.

"Where's Schmidt?" Mordin growled.

"Gone." The figure answered in a soft but clear voice. "You are too late for your revenge, Urdnot Mordin. Schmidt destroyed himself, so I left him behind."

"You killed him?" Lorn asked.

"In a manner of speaking." The figure answered. "He sought to become something else, but in doing so he ceased to be. The more I became myself, the less of him there was.

"He used the ancient serum that made our ancestor both more and less than human. But he added Element Zero to it, in the hope that it would give him biotic powers. He had them expose him to dark energy as the serum worked. He gained the power he wanted, but it cost him himself. Now I am all that is left."

"Who are you now?" Draal asked.

"I have no name." The being said. "I do not need one. I remained here to see that the abomination Johann Schmidt created centuries ago was finally destroyed. This you have done."

"Johann Schmidt? The Red Skull?" Draal asked.

"The same." The being replied. "He and those who followed him believed that humanity, indeed any sentient race, could not be trusted with freedom. To live free, for most people, is to live in fear. Fear of the stronger among them. Fear of other peoples, other races. Fear of poverty, of disaster. So they built governments to protect them, then sought to limit their power to do so. They crafted laws to restrain the dangerous, but then hedged them about with other laws that made them ineffective. They loathed the dangers their freedom brought them, but would not give it up.

"HYDRA was created to bring greater and greater fear to bear on the people. Fear enough so that in the end, they would voluntarily surrender their freedom and live orderly and peaceful lives under the iron rule of HYDRA.

"Foolishness. The answer to fear is not to subjugate humanity, but to transcend it. To leave the trammels of morality, ethics, worldly concerns behind and become finally, fully free. To accept the responsibility for our own existence, knowing that others will do the same, so that all may meet as equals.

"I too have failed at this task. Dark energy is at the core of this universe, and I have become too much a part of it. My time is short, and there is much I wish to see and do before I lose all identity. This place is the last remnant of HYDRA, and within the hour, it will cease to exist. You have that time to remove yourselves and the others whom you have not already killed.

"Go!"

With that, the creature that had been Hugo Schmidt disappeared soundlessly.

_They're all coming back_. Kaidan mused. _Coincidence, or something more?_

He was here, of course, as were Garrus and Tali and Grunt. Kasumi and Jack were here, and Jacob with them. Liara had slipped quietly aboard the station yesterday. Urdnot Wrex had arrived in more state, in a brand new krogan dreadnought, grumbling that he didn't want to be out of the fight any more. James and Samara were coming back even now, they'd be here later today. Joker and EDI were already aboard the _Synthesis_. Kaidan also knew, or guessed, that Miranda and Javik were in command of the Warsworn fleet waiting for something nearby.

Some, of course, could not come back. Thane Krios, the drell assassin, dead at the hands of Kai Leng. Mordin Solus, the brilliant salarian who had developed the cure for the genophage, and sacrificed himself to ensure that all krogan received it. Legion, the geth AI who had given up its' hard-won individuality to pass the upgrade on to all geth. Zaeed Massani, the hard-as-nails professional mercenary who had, ironically, died peacefully in his bed some five years ago. Karin Chakwas, the _Normandy_s' MO, who had also died peacefully and honoured.

Worst of all, because she was the first they had lost, Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams, the tough, capable Alliance marine he and Shepard had found on Eden Prime. Ashleys' squad had been massacred by geth heretics under the command of the traitor Saren Arterius, himself controlled by the Reaper vanguard, Sovereign. Ashley, the sole survivor, had joined forces with them to hunt Saren down and defeat Sovereign. But she had been left behind to die in the destruction of Sarens' cloning plant on Virmire. Someone had had to hold the line while the others escaped, and Ashley was the one in position to do so. Shepard had given the order and she had accepted it in full knowledge of what it meant. Kaidan knew the decision had always haunted Shepard, as it had him, forging in both men a determination never to leave anyone behind if they could possibly save them.

But now, they were all here, or near, again. Shepards' people. Drawn back to the place where they had uncovered Sarens' treachery, and fought Sovereign. Babylon 5 was not the Citadel, but it hung in space where the Citadel had once hung, and like the Citadel it was the place on which the future of the Galaxy hinged. But there was one thing, one person, missing.

_Wherever you are, Commander_, Kaidan thought, _put a good word in for us_!

Far away, in a forgotten mineshaft on a planetoid in the Perseus Veil, an obsolete geth Prime stirred and sat up, shaking over a century of accumulated detritus from its uncorroded shell. After a while, it rose to its feet and walked, a little unsteadily, out of the mine. By the time it had reached the small hangar, it seemed steadier, as if it had become used to its body once again.

The shuttle was also an obsolete model, but it took only an hour or so to get it powered up and rebooted, and the little planet was soon left behind. It would take a long time at this speed to get where it was going, but time wasn't an issue.

_You were a sentimentalist, Brother. You kept my memories among your own, and what are we but the sum of our memories? You may have been content to die, and I'm glad you're at peace. But I'd rather live!_

A place to start, first. Omega, obviously. Few geth went there, it held nothing for them, and he couldn't risk the Consensus trying to take this platform back. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stop them – some of the connections were hard-wired and if he cut them off, the platform would cease to function.

But he had all his brothers' knowledge. The promise of some toys – perhaps a replicator or a phaser pistol – should be enough to get Aria T'loak to provide him with the resources to construct a more suitable platform. Maybe more than one, now he'd mastered the trick of uploading and downloading himself.

And when that was done? He'd see. It was a big galaxy, a big playground, and he'd be in a position to do as he pleased. Maybe just overthrow Aria and rule Omega? He'd decide later.

Lore had plenty of time, after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter Five**

They had hardly had time to adjust to the huge interior of the TARDIS before the Doctor announced:

"We're here! I've put us in orbit, just out of phase so we can't be seen. I thought you'd want to have a look before we went in."

"Isn't that the Citadel?" Larsus asked. "It looks like the vids I've seen, but the arms were usually open."

"This is not the Citadel." Hawkeye said. "It is too small, though the design is similar."

"You're right." Shepard said. "That's Babylon Four."

"The battle station?" Benezia asked. "The one that vanished?"

"In about an hour from now, according to the records." The Doctor said. "I got a message from the Q - don't ask – saying I had to pick you up and bring you here and now. They said you'd know what to do."

Shepard nodded. "I do. There's a chamber in the centre of the main ring. If you scan the station, you'll know which one. Take us there, please."

The Doctor bent to the console for a moment, then gave Shepard a sharp, questioning look. Then she operated the controls.

The chamber was large, circular, and the walls were lined with unfamiliar tech. As the group left the TARDIS, the Doctor scanned around with a small device she produced from her pocket.

"This is TimeLord technology!" She exclaimed. "I even know who built it, because they signed it!"

"Who was it, then?" Jasmine asked.

"Me!" The Doctor told her. "But I don't remember doing it!"

"What does it do?" Ryan wanted to know.

"If I connect the TARDIS to it, it can take this whole station backward or forward in time, just once." The Doctor said. "Shepard, did you know about this?"

"Spoilers!" Shepard told her. The Doctors' eyes widened, then she nodded.

"Right, we'd better get started, then!" She said crisply. "Ryan, Graham, go and open the blue floor panel near the console. I'm going to need the grey, yellow and green cables. Just bring the loose ends out here. Jas, help me get the connection ports ready!"

At that moment, an alarm began to blare, and an artificial voice intoned: "Attention, attention! Auto-destruct sequence activated! All personnel report to evacuation stations! Detonation in fifteen, one-five, minutes!"

"So that's why the station was evacuated!" Shepard said. "I thought _we'd_ have to do it!

"But this isn't right. Doctor, carry on! Oathblades, with me!"

As they moved out swiftly, Shepard explained. "It's standard practice to build an auto-destruct module into orbital facilities while they're under construction. It's so that if something goes south, you can break the thing up into smaller debris that will burn up in an atmosphere or do less damage when they hit. But when the main mass effect generators go online, the module should be disconnected and removed.

"For some reason, that hasn't happened here. Either that or someone's put a new one in!"

"Who'd do that?" Benezia asked. "HYDRA?"

Shepard shook his head. "HYDRA, Cerberus holdouts, Reaper cultists, batarian or vorcha terrorists. Maybe even a hanar with a grudge -the jellyfish can do strange things sometimes. With any luck, we'll find out when we get there!"

Feneris, who had point, was the first to encounter the enemy. He rounded a corner to see a figure in black raising a weapon. Feneris dropped, firing as he did so. His opponents' shot went over him, but his own burst didn't miss.

"Nice!" Shepard commented, as he disposed of a second hostile with a burst from his assault rifle. "You're almost as good as Thane!"

"An undeserved but welcome compliment, Commander." Feneris observed.

"Is that an old N7 Valkyrie?" Larsus asked, looking at Shepards' rifle.

"Yeah." Shepard replied. "Best rifle I ever had. Found it lying around on Omega, of all places!"

"Hmm." Larsus nodded. "Nice design, but N7 use the Azrael now."

"I may be getting old," Shepard observed, "but I find the Azrael a little too heavy for quick aiming."

"Not you, the armour." Seera said. "Better servos in the new N7 suits."

"Well, at least we know who the opposition is." Benezia remarked. "These guys are drakh!"

"Thought the drakh were all gone?" Drokk said.

"We've travelled back in time, remember?" Feneris told him.

"Crap!" The krogan retorted. "Let's find a fight before I get a migraine!"

That wasn't far to seek. The room the drakh sentries had been guarding was B4s' CIC, and there were another twenty or so drakh in there. Shepard and Drokk immediately launched a frontal attack, flanked by Larsus and Seera. Hawkeye scuttled up the wall like some metal insect, found a perch and began methodically blowing drakh brains out. Benezia and Feneris held the rear, each using their particular abilities to guard the backs of, and create openings for, the heavy hitters.

It was a merry little scrap, while it lasted, and Benezia, despite some initial concern, was proud to see that her father had lost none of his fighting edge! Rather, he had put his Oathblades to shame in terms of his situational awareness and lethal aim!

As the last drakh fell, Shepard barked. "Feneris, get on the destruct!"

The drell darted over to the main console, where something that clearly didn't belong had been mounted and was flashing a countdown. A few minutes brisk work with his omni-tool, and the device went dark.

"Done!" He said. "It's inactive. I'll disconnect and remove it."

"Good job, everyone." Shepard said. "You might make Truesworn yet. Maybe in ten years or so!"

"You're not so bad yourself, for an old guy!" Larsus commented.

"He ain't that old!" Drokk pointed out.

Benezia chuckled. It was easy to forget -because he didn't make a thing of it – that Drokk was by far the oldest of the squad. Then again, at 200 he was a mere stripling in krogan terms!

Shepard moved over to the comms board. "Doctor, how are you doing down there?"

"All ready, Shepard." Was the reply. "When do you want us to go?"

"Two days after you picked us up, 14:25 GTC. Give or take ten minutes. Then come to CIC, we need to talk."

"Yes, we do!" The Doctor said. "See you soon."

"Right!" Shepard said. "Let's get busy, people! We have to get CIC up and running, fast!"

"There aren't enough of us to run this place, Dad!" Benezia said.

"If we get it right, there will be." Shepard promised. "Listen, this station was built to defend Babylon Five. It's four times bigger than the civilian station, and mounts some serious weaponry.

"It was also meant to be the docking station for the military and the command centre for Council fleets. When it disappeared, they had to do some shuffling around with Babylon Five, but it still doesn't have a fraction of the firepower of this place!"

"But we're the ones making it disappear!" Seera noted. "Why not just leave it?"

"Best way to keep it safe." Drokk pointed out. "The drakh have already tried to destroy it. The shadows, HYDRA, all kinds of people would have been trying to wreck it or take over it. This way, we've got it all new and shiny! No viruses, no budget cuts or sloppy maintenance, no infiltrators in the crew. Right, Shepard?"

"Got it in one, Oathblade!" Shepard replied.

But Benezia, who knew her father, thought: _He's holding something back. That's not like him. This may be worse than we thought!_

Then the timeshift was done, and they were looking out at a very different scene.

Close by, in a matching orbit, was Babylon Five -apparently undamaged. Stationed near it was the B5 Defence Fleet. On the flank of that fleet was another flotilla, this time of asari ships.

Further away, closing into a massive phalanx, was the shadow fleet. At a glance, their numbers seemed to just about equal those of the massed Council fleets, but the space between the two sides was littered with debris and burning wrecks, most of them shadow.

"Dammit, we're late!" Benezia growled.

"No." Shepard said. "We're just in time. Are comms online?"

"Ready to go!" Seera confirmed.

"Get me the Warsworn fleet." Shepard ordered. "They should be one relay out."

"Got them." Seera reported. "Patching you through to Commander Lawson."

"Miranda? It's me." Shepard said. "You should have your orders by now. Mission is a go!"

"Acknowledged." Came the reply. "Moving out!"

It was then that the Doctor and her group arrived.

"Benezia, take over here." Shepard said, then drew the Doctor aside. You must have guessed by now that I'm doing what you told me to do." He said.

"Not exactly." She replied. "You're doing what I'm going to tell you to do, only I'm going to tell you to do it…when?"

"About thirty years ago, in the Overlook on Kronos Station." Shepard said. "I'd just got back from a very long journey that I'm still not sure I didn't dream, and was just starting the Warsworn up. You told me about the tech you'd built into the B4 station, when and where I was to meet you and the date you were supposed to take me to. You also said that when I met up with you, you wouldn't remember any of this and I wasn't to tell you until now. No spoilers, you said. Act as if we've never met."

"You almost managed it." She said. "But you're a terrible liar. That's another way you remind me of the Brigadier."

"The Brigadier?" Shepard asked.

"An old friend." She said. "You'd have liked him. He'd have liked you, for that matter."

"If you say so." Shepard said. "But now things are going to get messy, so you and your friends should leave. You'd be fine, I guess, but your friends are civilians, and I don't want them…."

"Dad, we've got a problem!" Benezia interrupted. "Our fleet is being attacked. By vorlons!"

"Dammit!" Shepard said. "Can they hold out?"

"Not sure. I don't think so!" She said. "Larsus, have we got anything that can fire?"

"Not from here." The turian said. "If I can get to one of the firing stations, maybe. But I'd need at least ten minutes to bring the gun online on my own. Maybe five if Feneris comes with me?"

"Too long!" Benezia gritted.

"Wait!" This was Graham. "Who are those other ships? The ones that look like angel fish?"

"Minbari!" Benezia said. "It looks like…."

"I'm getting chatter between our ships and the minbari." Seera reported. "They've been asked to cover us! There are more than enough to them to see off the vorlons!"

"Right!" Shepard snapped. "Get the docking bays open! This is an Invasion Drill, but for real, now, so stay at your stations. We need this place fully operational before the rest of the vorlon fleet gets here!"

He turned back to the Doctor. "Time for you to go, I think." He said.

"Well, I don't!" She replied tartly. "If you think I'm going to let hundreds of people be killed without even trying to prevent it…"

"That's not your place, Doctor!" This was a new voice. It belonged to a tall, unusually beautiful, asari in an elaborate uniform who had simply appeared nearby.

"Q." The Doctor said. "It was you who told me where and when to meet Shepard. How did you know?"

"Lorien, of course." Q replied sourly. "He's still pulling the strings! But you and I have to stay here, Doctor, to bear witness.

"Soon, both the shadows and the vorlons will be in the same place, at the same time, after millennia of avoiding each other. That was our fault, the fault of the Q. We intervened when we shouldn't have done, and this is the outcome."

The Doctor nodded. "I know. My people are responsible as well. We knew what the Leviathans' 'solution' would lead to, we could see it. We could have told them, stopped them, made them try another way. But we aren't supposed to interfere, are we? No, TimeLords watch, and record, and observe while other people die."

"And so we are here." Q replied. "To represent our peoples at the fruition of what our action and your inaction has set in motion."

It was to the credit of all concerned that the unexpected arrival of the shadow fleet in the Serpent Nebula did not create a panic. There was a certain amount of scurrying about as civilians were evacuated to shelters and soldiers reported to duty positions, but no panic, no casualties and no looting. Though the latter might have been due to the heavy BSec presence on the streets. Commander Garibaldi was not a man to overlook details.

The Council were in B5s CIC -a high, vaulted room that had originally been intended for ceremonies, but which had been requisitioned by the military after the loss of Babylon Four. Admiral Sheridan and Colonel Sinclair were already there.

"I need full cover on the docks." Sinclair was saying. "That's the only area they'll be able to board in force. But I want units on the maintenance airlocks as well. They may try to get infiltration squads in through them.

"Get the StarFuries out there. I want them covering the docks, the locks and the turrets. Tell them to watch out for kamikaze attacks."

He turned to the Council. "Thank God Wrex brought those krogan reinforcements. I've got enough people to cover all the likely invasion points now, and still have BSec in reserve."

Sheridan was in conference with Admiral Moreau.

"You've got the field command, Joker." He was saying. "I'll co-ordinate from here. What's your strategy?"

"All our ships have the geth shielding now." Joker said. "That means they can't spot us until we're on top of them. I'm having the dreadnoughts and cruisers hold position in front of the station and bombard with long-range weapons. I'm sending the destroyers, frigates, corvettes and fighters forward. Shadow weapons aren't as effective against smaller craft -they need their targets to stand still. So I'm going to send the light ships in to mix it up. The destroyers can stay out of the furball, but the small ships can tie shadow heavies up enough for them to get a clear shot.

"Wait till the defence fleet are fully engaged, then send the asari in on the flank. Keep the minbari back in case any of the shadows break off and run straight for the station."

Jokers' plan worked as he had hoped. Though few of the smaller ships had the firepower to destroy shadow capital vessels, they could maul them severely, leaving them easy targets for the waiting destroyers. The constant stream of flak from the distant heavies was less effective on individual ships, but did serve to weaken shields and breach hulls, softening the larger shadow ships up.

The fast attack made by the asari on the flank, while not decisive, was also effective. The asari had fewer light vessels, but more dreadnoughts and battlecruisers. Their concentrated volleys of heavy fire wrought havoc among the already-occupied shadows.

Joker paced around the CIC of the _Synthesis_. He was an Admiral, frail in health and no longer young, but his pilots' heart was longing to be out there, at the controls of a frigate, doing what he was born to do.

Then what he had feared, happened.

"Conn, sensors! Sir, four shadow cruisers have broken away from the main fleet! Parabolic course for the station. They'll flank our heavies, sir."

"No time to reposition, they are moving too fast." EDI informed him. "Admiral Sheridan has ordered the minbari into position, but it is unlikely they will be able to prevent a suicide attack."

"Shit!" Joker stormed. Then the _Synthesis_ AI, which had so far been concentrating on ships' operations, stated.

"This vessel is capable of intercepting the attack. Our variable-geometry mass effect generators and multi-vector thrusters allow the _Synthesis_ speed and manoeuvrability approximating that of a frigate. However, our current pilot trained on dreadnoughts, and is unlikely to possess the skills necessary to take advantage of this."

"So we need a frigate pilot!" Joker said sourly.

"We have one." EDI said. "Jeff, you have been itching to fly in combat again since we appropriated the _Normandy_. Go and do what you do better than anyone!"

She turned to the CIC and announced "Vice-Admiral has the conn!"

Joker looked at her for a moment, then bolted for the cockpit.

His entrance was less than quiet, and the grizzled veteran in the pilots' seat was more than a little surprised when Joker barked. "You're relieved!" But he vacated the seat without comment -he knew who his CO was. The young asari ensign in the co-pilot seat looked questioningly at Joker.

"Stay put!" He told her. "Watch and learn!"

EDI's voice came over the speakers. "Attention crew. Brace for high acceleration and extreme manoeuvres!"

"Reconfiguring control interface!" The AI said.

Joker gave a ferocious grin, then his fingers began to dance over the controls. He was where he belonged.

The _Synthesis_ shot out of her position in the phalanx at an acute angle and a velocity that only the mass effect made possible. At high speed, she bore down on the shadow cruisers. They were in a diamond formation and the lead ship fired its beam, arcing it down toward the _Synthesis. _

Joker did not deviate from his course. Instead he tipped the ship over through ninety degrees so that the beam slipped past her belly with metres to spare.

"Main guns, fire!" EDI commanded.

The _Synthesis'_ main armament was a bow-mounted cluster of no less than six Thanix-S super cannon. Firing simultaneously, they reduced the shadow cruiser to a cloud of fragments through which the ship sailed as Joker righted her, then took her over and past the rear-guard cruiser.

"How we holding up?" He asked.

"No damage." EDI reported. "You have spilled some coffee." There was a retch and splatter from somewhere nearby. "You have also spilled a number of the crew."

Joker grinned, and then the pain hit him like a red-hot iron spike hammered through his chest. He couldn't breathe, his vision swam and his hands wouldn't work. _Not now!_ He thought desperately. He forced himself to turn his head, to speak to the ensign. But with the quick intuition of her people, she had grasped what she needed to.

"I have the ship." She told him. "Hang in there!"

Through waves of pain, Joker still felt a surge of pride as she went to work. Spinning the ship round on its own axis, she took it toward the two shadow vessels which had turned to meet the threat.

"Missiles away!" EDI announced. Twenty-four nuclear-tipped warheads travelling at near-light speed. Twenty-four direct hits. Two cruisers destroyed. Without a pause, the young asari opened the throttle wide as she chased the final cruiser, which was speeding toward B5 at its own top speed.

The adage about a stern chase being a long chase was disproved here. Within moments, EDI ordered: "Target coming alongside. Port batteries, fire as your guns bear!"

The side batteries of the _Synthesis_ were not as powerful as the bow cluster, but the old-fashioned broadside was enough to leave the shadow vessel adrift and aflame. Joker heard the ensign speaking urgently to someone, then EDI was there.

"Jeff? Jeff!" There was real distress in her usually even tones. She was an AI in a synthetic body, he knew that, but he loved her anyway and he knew she loved him.

"It's OK." He managed to whisper. "We always knew this was gonna happen. At least I'm going out on a high."

His body was too frail to support a synthetic heart, or even survive the transplant surgery. Any attempt at CPR, they both knew, would shatter his brittle ribs and be instantly fatal. Even the stress of defibrillation would cause more harm than good.

"Thirty years longer than the docs gave me when I was a kid." He murmured. "Seventy with you, babe. Gotta be good!"

"Better than good." She told him softly. "Are you in pain?"

"Not anymore." He said. "Just tired. So tired. Love you, babe."

"I love you too." She said.

He stared up through the transparent roof of the cockpit at the stars. He'd lived the best days of his life among them, and now….

EDI gently closed Jokers' eyes. She looked up into the tearful face of the ensign. Gatera was her name, EDI recalled, Gatera K'lina.

"I'm so sorry!" Gatera was saying. "I just thought he'd been taken ill, and there was so much to do…!"

"You did what he wanted you to do, Ensign." EDI said gently. "What he expected of you. I knew when you took over. I know my husbands' touch on a ship. You have the same dash and courage, but you lack his sureness, his faith in the ship. Such things come with time, and the right ship.

"For now, Acting Lieutenant K'Lina, you are the pilot of this vessel!"

EDI turned and lifted Jokers' body effortlessly. "I will take him to Med-Bay for now. When the time comes, Gatera, we will mourn him together with his other friends."

As she walked through the ship, with crew members standing to attention and saluting as she passed, EDI nevertheless carried on with her duties. The news that the shadow ships were disengaging and regrouping came as no surprise. The Allied fleets had made them pay three for one in destroyed or crippled ships, and the enemy had lost their numerical advantage.

"Fall back to the heavies!" She commanded. "Form up with the asari and minbari fleets. The shadows will be making a final run at Babylon 5."

Then the report came in of the reappearance of Babylon Four. _Oh, Shepard, _she thought, _I do not want to bring you this news, my friend!_

The sudden reappearance of a space station supposedly lost decades ago is enough to put anyone off their stroke. Sheridan was no exception, but he recovered quickly.

"Get me some scans!" He barked. "If that thing is operational, and the enemy have control of it, we're dead!"

The report came back fast. "Admiral, the main power grid and mass effect generators are online, as is the CIC, but everything else is still offline."

"Most of the primary systems hadn't yet been brought online when the station vanished." Tali observed. "It's in almost the exact same state it was on that day, apart from the CIC."

"What the Hell is it doing here?" Sheridan demanded.

"Sir, a fleet has just come through the relay! Fifty troop transports and a handful of warships! They're signalling us!"

"Patch it through."

"Admiral Sheridan, this is Commander Lawson of the Warsworn. We have come to help. It is imperative that we reach Babylon Four, but we are under attack! Can you assist?"

"Sir, they are being attacked. A squadron, maybe two, of vorlon craft, mainly frigate-class."

"Thank you." Sheridan said. "Commander Lawson, I'm not a fan of mercs, but right now I need all the help I can get! Hang tight, I'll get you some support. Sheridan out.

"Babylon command to minbari fleet, get the vorlons off those Warsworn transports!"

The relatively small vorlon force gave ground rapidly before the heavily-armed minbari destroyers and cruisers. With a brief but sincere message of thanks, Miranda followed the troopships to the newly-arrived station and docked there.

"Admiral, Babylon Four is now coming online!" The Sensor Chief reported. "The station should be fully operational in less than thirty minutes."

"It better be!" Sheridan said. "The mass relay just lit up like a Christmas Tree!"

There was complete silence in the CIC as everyone watched the mighty vorlon fleet come through the relay and form up.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter Six**

"They're in no hurry." Drokk remarked. "What are they waiting for?"

The vorlon fleet was huge, even after the loss of a third of their number and the planet-wrecker. But they hung in space, well clear of all the other fleets, in a defensive formation.

"For your people to attack them, for the shadows to attack you, or for the shadows to retreat." Q told him. "They are in a difficult situation. Aeons ago, my people, the Q, forbade the shadows and vorlons to engage each other directly, under pain of destruction. More ages later, we forbade them from acting in concert, either.

"They will know I am here, and that I could destroy both fleets with a thought. They cannot attack the shadows. They cannot attack these stations because the shadows also wish them destroyed, so to do so would be to act in league with their enemies.

"If the shadows renew their attack, they will either succeed in destroying your Council and its forces -less likely given their recent losses -or they will fail and be reduced to a remnant or destroyed utterly. Either outcome would satisfy the vorlons.

"Should you attack the vorlons, they will be justified in responding with full force and conquering you all, which will also serve their purpose.

"Finally, should the shadows retreat, the vorlons will be free to follow any path they choose with regard to your peoples.

"The one thing they cannot do at this moment is act with aggression."

"If you can destroy them, then why don't you?" Larsus asked.

"Because I'm here!" The Doctor stated. "And I won't let that happen!"

"You would not, of course." Q said. "But there is no need. You see, as I do, that this is not something for either of us to decide, Doctor. The decision lies in the hands of those most deeply affected."

"Damn right!" Shepard said. "But first, we have to get into a position where we can make it! Benezia, what's our status?"

"The Commander and the Ancient of War report that this station is now fully online!" Benezia said.

"Good. Tell them both to report here." Shepard ordered. "Put me on station-wide.

"Attention, Warsworn! This is what we've been training for. Execute Full Defence Mode! Sworn to War!"

"How do we stand?" Garrus wanted to know.

"Right now?" Sheridan said. "On a knife-edge. Reports tell me that B4 is now fully online. With those heavy guns and the fleets we have, we could hold the shadows off, probably even wipe them out, if nobody did anything stupid!

"The vorlons are a different matter. That's a big fleet, and they're fresh. We don't have any of the STGs' nasty tricks, so it'd be down to firepower. We could hold 'em for a couple hours in this station, but if we want to survive longer, we'd need to evacuate to B4. If I were them, in that situation, I'd throw everything I had at the transports and the docks. Massive casualties any way you cut it.

"If they both attack, we've had it!"

"The quarian and Alliance fleets are on their way, three hours out. The geth and turians are also inbound, but won't be here for five hours at least. If they get here before anything happens, we may have a chance. But I still don't see this station surviving."

"Admiral." Tali asked, "have you ever looked at the specs for Babylon Four?"

"Before my time." Sheridan replied. "Why?"

"Because if the Warsworn have, your estimates may be a little off!" Tali told him. "I was on the design team, and…"

"Sir, B4 is on the move! Collision course!"

"What?" Sheridan snapped. "Get the thrusters online, we have to shift orbit!"

"Admiral…!" Tali began, but the then voice of BabCom, the station VI, cut across her.

"Full Defence Mode active! Preparing for systems interface. Alignment green, receiving cradles ready!"

"Sir!" The Sensors Officer again. "B4 is…opening. Like the Citadel!"

It was true. The vast, cylindrical battle station was closing with its' sister station, and as it did do, one end was opening out.

"Full Defence Mode." Tali was saying. "B5 was originally designed to dock _inside_ B4 if under heavy attack. That puts it within B4s heavy armour and shields, and means it doesn't get in the way of the heavy guns. When both stations combine their computing power, mass effect fields and power grids, it triples B4s' firepower and shielding."

"Between that and the fleets on station, we could hold off both enemy fleets for a clear seven hours!" Grunt realised. "More than enough time for the other fleets to get here!"

Smoothly, and surprisingly quickly, Babylon 5 was drawn within the larger structure. The open section closed down as the smaller station settled into the massive cradles that had clearly been made to hold it.

"Full systems interface complete." BabCom announced. "B5 CIC now uplinked to B4 CIC. Umbilicals and boarding tubes in place. Babylon Six is online!"

"Sir, we have a connection to B4 CIC." Comms announced.

Sheridan turned to the screen. "Just what the Hell….?" He began, then stopped. The figure standing in the middle of the other CIC was all the explanation he, or anyone else, needed!

Vega had been watching everything from Spectre HQ, which was designed to act as an emergency CIC in the event of disaster or primary system failure. As per standing orders, all Spectres currently on B5 were there: Vega himself, Commander Ivanova, Major Reegar, Captain Draal and Jack – under her formal name of Commander Nought. Somehow or another, several non-Spectres had made their way there, as well; Jacob Taylor, Kasumi Goto, Urdnot Mordin and Justicar Samara.

They had seen the spectacular docking of the two stations, but had not been privy to the communications between them. They were all restless. For the most of them, it was frustration at the fact that this was not a ground war, so their skills were not needed. Draal, however, was different. His clan was out there, fighting. So was the _Black Star_, the ship he had once commanded. He should have been out there, making a difference, instead of pacing round a control centre everyone hoped would never be needed.

Then the voice of Truesworn Marcus Cole came over the internal comms.

"Miss Goto, Justicar Samara, Commander Nought, Mr Taylor and Commander Vega, please report to B4 CIC at once!"

"Wonder what this is about?" Vega asked.

"You will see." Samara told him.

Knowing better than to question the Justicar, Vega turned to Lorn and Draal.

"You guys got this?" He asked.

"No problem." Lorn said. "If the vorlons attack, we'll just shoot Mordin out the nearest airlock and let him deal with them!"

"We got laws about weapons of mass destruction!" Jack pointed out.

They were met at the far end of the boarding tube by a courteous Hireling who escorted them through the corridors. On the way, they encountered a party made up of Garrus, Tali, Kaidan, Grunt and Wrex. A certain surmise was growing in Vegas' mind. One that was confirmed when they were also joined by Liara.

As a result he was not entirely surprised to see his old mentor, Commander Shepard, grinning at them. Liara flew into his arms and greeted him in a way which left Vega in no doubt that she had known all along that the father of her daughters was still alive. It was also clear that Samara and Kasumi had known as well.

Other greeting were more haphazard. Tali was as effusive as Liara had been, but without the passion. Jacob was obviously dumbfounded. Wrex took the matter in stride: "You're as near to a krogan as you can get without actually being one, Shepard!" He said. "And we ain't easy to kill!" Grunt was clearly elated, landing his former battlemaster a clap on the shoulder that staggered him. "We've already won this, now you're here!" He announced. "Let's go eat!"

Jack took a mighty swing at Shepards' jaw, which he slipped adroitly, before hugging him tight, but she said nothing.

Vega just grinned as he shook his old commanders' hand. "Long time, no see, Loco!"

Garrus clasped hands with his old comrade. "You sure took your time getting here!" He remarked.

"I've kinda been dead." Shepard pointed out.

"So what?" Garrus asked. "They killed you once before, and all it did was piss you off! Why should the second time be any different?"

"Seventy years!" Kaidan said. "All that time and you were still alive? Why hide?"

"Lots of reasons." Shepard said. "I've kept busy, but on the down-low. Done a lot of things I couldn't have done otherwise. If I'd come straight back…."

"There've been times we could've used you." Kaidan told him.

"As what?" Shepard asked. "An Admiral, stuck behind a desk? A war hero, paraded round the Galaxy on goodwill tours? Endorsing shower gel and sports equipment?

"I've got no head and less patience for politics, Kaidan. You guys have put things back together a Hell of a lot better than I could!

"I just kept my head down, went where I was needed, and did what I do best! Liara kept me in the loop, so I knew what was going on, knew where I could do some good.

"But now, things have gotten out of hand again, so here I am, one last time!"

He turned to the Comms station. "Seera, patch me through to the _Synthesis_."

"Yes, Warden." Seera replied. "You're through now."

"Shepard to flagship, you there, Joker?"

But it was EDIs' face that appeared on the screen.

"Shepard?" She said. "I have bad news, I am afraid. The ship and fleet are in good shape, but Jeff….Jeff is gone, Shepard. I am so sorry!"

"Gone?" Shepard said. "Dead? He can't be! I watched the recording of that last fight. Only Joker could've made that run on the shadow cruisers!"

"It was he." EDI allowed. "At least at first. But his heart was weak, Shepard. He told me not to tell you, and he would not reveal the full extent of his illness to Alliance Command. They would have grounded him, and he could not have borne that.

"But that last fight was too much. He died as he would have wished to, in the pilots' seat of a fine ship. He dreaded ending in a hospital bed."

Shepards' face was grim and haunted. Another friend gone. _Does it ever stop?_ He wondered.

"Are you OK, EDI?" He asked.

"No." She said. "I am not. I always knew I would lose Jeff eventually, but that does not make the parting easier. But I will endure, in Jeffs' memory, because he always told me to carry on. I am ready to do what is needed now."

"Thanks." Shepard said. "We'll talk later, if we can, EDI. Shepard out."

He turned from the screen and faced the room.

"Right!" He said. "It's time to finish this. Seera, transmit on every channel. I want every ship in all the fleets to hear this!"

When she nodded he raised his voice in the familiar tone of command.

"All fleets, this is Commander Shepard on Babylon Six. This station and its fleet are capable of defending ourselves successfully against any attack for at least seven hours. The full strength of the Council races' largest fleets are less than five hours away. We have an impasse.

"But our first concern is for the lives of everyone here, of every race, and the hope of Galactic peace. I therefore invite representatives of the shadow and vorlon commands to meet with myself and members of the Galactic Council aboard this station. One representative from each, safety guaranteed by the Warsworn, whose reputation you should know. As soon as you signal your willingness to talk, we will send co-ordinates for docking bays.

"We await your reply. Shepard out."

The Doctor was staring at him. "You want to talk to them?" She said.

"No!" Shepard said. "I just lost one of my oldest and best friends because of them! I want to wipe the Galaxy clean of all of them!" He took a deep breath. "But that wouldn't help anyone. It'd just mean more people losing more friends.

"The Reapers were machines. They had a programme to follow, one they couldn't or wouldn't deviate from. They were less advanced than the geth, in some ways. The geth could, and did, change.

"But the shadows and the vorlons are living beings. People, however odd they look or what they're made of or what they eat. People don't want to die, they have parents, families, kids, friends. Sun Tzu said war should be the last resort, and after spending my life on one battlefield or another, I agree with him!"

The Doctor nodded. "That's something the Brigadier might've said." She allowed.

"Warden." Seera said. "They've accepted the invitation."

The Conference Room on Babylon Four was spacious, designed to provide room for any species, including the massive elcor. Shepard had ordered the furniture retracted. Neither vorlons nor shadows were in the habit of sitting, he knew, and no papers would be signed today. He waited there with Garrus, Tali and Kaidan, representing the Council, Wrex and Samara to represent their people, Miranda for the Warsworn and Javik to speak on behalf of all the races lost to the Reapers. Liara was also there, she refused to leave him now.

The shadow was the first to enter. There was nothing to mark it out from any other of its people. A six-foot high black praying mantis with a triangular head and four glowing slits which might have been eyes. It did not speak, merely moved over to the window that covered one wall of the room. A window that showed a panorama of the three fleets that faced each other.

The vorlon followed moments later, in a dark black and purple Encounter Suit. "I am Ulkesh." It said.

"Thank you both for coming." Shepard said. "Now, if it comes to a fight here today, everyone is going to get hurt." He turned to the shadow. "There's a good chance your people will be wiped out. We know the Leviathan destroyed your homeworld. We had no part in that, we would've stopped them if we could have."

He shifted his attention to Ulkesh. "Your fleet is bigger, and in better shape, and you still have your Empire. But once our other fleets arrive, you'll be outnumbered and outgunned, you'll end up having to run or die. Then our fleets will come after your Empire. That won't be single exploration ships or small squadrons you can make disappear. It will be the full strength of the Council and its associate races. That's something even you have to respect.

"So what I want from you, both of you, is to know what it will take to end this here and now, peacefully."

"You must choose." The shadow spoke for the first time. The voice was smooth, insinuating, the English perfect. "You must give your allegiance to one or the other of us."

"All young races must accept the guidance of a First One race." The vorlon added. "This is the rule of the contest. The choice between order and chaos. Between us and the shadows."

"What happens if we choose?" Tali asked.

"If you choose us," the Shadow said, "then this Council must be dissolved. The mass relays must be destroyed. This station and the lesser one must be destroyed. All races must return to their home quadrants. The geth must be exterminated."

"Not much, then." Wrex growled. "What's the point of isolating us all from each other?"

"Governments will change." The shadow said. "Philosophies will change. The strong will rise. The clever will go back among the stars under their leadership. The flames of conflict will once again heat the crucible of evolution."

"Not happening." Shepard said. "What about the vorlons? What do you want?"

"The Council must become the only government." Ulkesh said. "Each race, each world, must surrender its sovereignty. All races must follow a single code of laws. Each individual must be subservient to the whole. The abomination which is synthetic life and artificial intelligence must be destroyed. You will obey our guidance in your research and exploration. Your growth will be directed. New species will be assimilated into the greater whole. There will be peace and controlled growth."

"Not gonna happen either!" Shepard said. "Now here's what _we_ propose. You both leave this area with your fleets, now.

"After that, it's up to you. We can help the shadows find a new homeworld . We can sit down with both of you and find a way to resolve whatever the argument between you is. You can work with us, become associate races, and in time, join the Council.

"If you can't handle that. If whatever it is between you can't be settled peacefully, fine. Take your quarrel someplace else. Go somewhere far away and fight each other, or go off into your corners and sulk, but leave us the Hell alone!

"We know you shadows have been working on the yahg. You wanted them to replace the drakh? But the salarians kept outsmarting both you and them, didn't they? And now the yahg know they're being played, and they're not happy about it!

"As for you vorlons, the fact that your people high-tailed it off of Minbar tells me that you know they're wise to you, now!"

"So if you choose to run and hide, we'll know if you start interfering again. If you do, we'll come for you!

"So, what do you say?"

"You do not understand." Ulkesh said. "There is no third alternative, whatever these others might have told you. There is only order or chaos. Us or the shadows."

"We're only here as witnesses." The Doctor said. "We didn't tell them anything, and they don't answer to us. We won't intervene."

"Unless you push your luck too far!" Q warned.

"Nevertheless," the shadow said, "the Ulkesh speaks truly. You must choose."

Shepard suddenly held a hand up to his ear. "Hold a moment, I'm putting you on speaker. Go ahead."

It was Grunts' voice. "You were right, Shepard. The shadows tried to sneak an infiltration team aboard. They didn't get out of the docking bay. Your Warsworn are as good as the reports say. Jack and I didn't have to break a sweat!"

"Thanks, Grunt. Get yourselves up here, you and Jack.

"Vega, how's the vorlon ship?"

"Quiet as the grave, boss." Vega reported. "You want us to stay here?"

"No need. I didn't think that was the vorlons' plan." Shepard told him. "You, Kasumi and Jacob can join us up here."

Javik had his weapon out and levelled at the shadow. "Do you wish me to deal with this, Warden?" He asked.

Shepard shook his head. "No. Their play failed, but the offer still stands.

"Listen, both of you, it's over. You can't win. The Reapers aren't coming back to clean up your mess anymore. You've missed your time, or misjudged us. We've outgrown you, and this time you won't get a shiny new galaxy full of primitives to mould again.

"Now you can join us, or you can leave us be, but we won't serve you or play your game for you. We are not toys!"

Javik had holstered his weapon and turned away in disgust. The shadow must have thought it was in the clear, because with a screech of rage it hurled itself at Shepard. But Shepard and Javik were not the only dangerous people in the room. Kaidan, Garrus and Wrex all moved at once.

Kaidan was met with a slash from a razor-edged upper limb that sliced him open and hurled him aside like a broken doll. Garrus twisted aside at the last second to avoid a similar fate, but then Wrex was there.

The shadow was covered in tough, chitinous armour, and far stronger than its spindly form promised. But it was no match for an enraged krogan, especially the legendary battlemaster that was Urdnot Wrex. With a roar, he flung his mighty arms around the creature, pinning the deadly limbs to its sides. Under the crushing power he exerted, the outer shell cracked, razor-keen shards lacerating the organs and muscles within. Wrex slammed his head into the shadows' face, the steel-hard plates shattering the alien skull and pulping the brain inside. The shadow went limp, and Wrex hurled it away from him.

Liara was kneeling beside Kaidan. She raised a tear-stained face to Shepard and shook her head.

"I am getting so tired," Sheard said in a soft, deadly tone, "of losing friends." He turned and pointed at Ulkesh, who had remained immobile and apparently disinterested throughout.

"If you have any little tricks up your sleeve, forget them! You and your playmates have one more chance left to do the right thing."

The vorlon could not shrug, but its tone conveyed the gesture.

"The price of your arrogance." It said. "You resist your masters. You step out of your place. Do you think we fear you? Fear your fleets? Look outside, now!"

The relay was active again, and they watched as another vorlon fleet, three times the size of the one already there, emerged.

"This is our day." Ulkesh said. "This cycle ends here, now. Let the shadows do as they will, they are broken, dying. We will cleanse the Galaxy, and begin anew! Rebuild in our image. Q, TimeLord, leave now. We have broken no ban of the Q, and the laws of Gallifrey forbid interference. Let these small beings learn the price of rebellion!"

Shepard sighed. "I really didn't want to do this." He said sadly. "You forced my hand. Remember that, Ulkesh. What happens now is on you and your people!"

He turned to the window, and suddenly the blue lens of his cybernetic eye blazed with light. Almost at once, the mass relay lit up with the same light and began to cycle at a rate far faster than normal.

Then the ships appeared. Like vorlon ships, with long narrow hulls and tentacle-like limbs at the bow. But these ships were metal, and the smallest of them was five times the size of the biggest vorlon ship.

"Oh, my God!" Miranda whispered. "The Reapers!"

Far below, in the bowels of Babylon Five, Kosh knew what was happening. It knew, as every vorlon knew, because they were one.

Or were they? Kosh had spent longer than any other vorlon away from the Empire. Distance diminished the link, lessened control. Being alone, it had conceived thoughts unlike those of the others. Now it must decide. To ignore all it had learned, or to act on it?

The Encounter Suit cracked open at the collar. Light filled the room for a moment, then vanished upwards.

"All Council fleets, stand down!" Shepard commanded. "The Reapers will _not _come for us. It's the others they're after!"

By this time, Grunt, Vega and their squads had arrived in the conference room.

"Holy Hell!" Vega said. "I thought they'd been destroyed!"

"That's what you were meant to think." Shepard said. "The Crucible didn't just give me the power to destroy the Reapers. It gave me the option of controlling them. The Illusive Man was right, in a way, but the use he would've put them to was wrong. I ordered some of them to self-destruct, enough to let you think they'd all been destroyed. But most of them I sent away, back to dark space, beyond the Rim.

"I hoped I'd never have to call them back, but the vorlons forced my hand. Now the Reapers can do what they never could before. The Last Harvest."

The Reapers descended, without haste, but with purpose, on the vorlon and shadow fleets. There was no escape, and though both fleets fought desperately, there was no winning either. The Reaper weapons sheared through shields and hulls as if they were tissue paper. They shrugged off the attacks launched at them. Systematically, unhurriedly, they destroyed the fleets of the First Ones.

"They attack the Empire, too!" Ulkesh said. "I feel the passing of millions! We had prevented this!"

"Your virus is no longer active." Shepard said. "The Crucible reset the system. The Catalyst was deleted. The intelligence driving the Reapers is no longer artificial. It's mine!"

Ulkeshs' Encounter Suit was ripped open down the centre. A glowing form, a purple cephalopod shape that was not entirely material flowed out of it and wrapped its tentacles around Shepard, who howled in agony.

Liara flung a biotic attack, inflicting a wound Ulkesh ignored. Then another glowing form, identical to Ulkesh, but vivid green, came up through the floor and wrapped its own tentacles around him. Ulkesh was forced to release Shepard, who slumped to the floor. The two energy beings, locked together, floated out through the window, drifting away until they were lost in the havoc of the battle.

"No, no, no!" Liara was saying. She looked up at the others. "He's dying!" She said.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Last Harvest**

**Chapter Seven**

_Vorlon Fleet, the Anatar Gap, 60 Billion Years Ago_

Kosh and Ulkesh watched from the Command Centre of the flagship as the fleets drew up. The last signals had been exchanged. Their opponents had refused to surrender, as had they. Battle would be joined soon.

Alongside their own vast fleet, the sontaran and vulcan fleets were massed. The generations spent educating these two races would justify itself today. The sontarans, warlike, honourable and disciplined, would be the sword of law. The vulcans, stoic, logical, brilliant, would be the shield. The vorlons themselves the mind directing both.

Across the starless waste of the Gap, almost invisible in the blackness, waited the shadow fleet. They too, had the races they had indoctrinated in support. The xindi – six different races with a common descent, all using different technologies, different social structures and different military doctrines, but all joined in the belief that conflict alone brought advancement.

Together, these fleets represented two-thirds of the intelligent life in the Galaxy. Victory meant domination, defeat annihilation.

"Today is not an end, but a beginning." Ulkesh observed. "Our victory will herald a new dawn for life."

"So will our defeat." Kosh replied. "Even if the day following the dawn is less peaceful."

Vorlons do not laugh, but there was amusement in Ulkeshs' response. "Do you imagine that the battle-fury of the shadows and xindi will overcome the discipline of our crews and allies? Even if they can keep the xindi from fighting among themselves as soon as the battle begins?

"No, we are assured, this day will end the long debate. Order must triumph if life is to survive."

"There are others who might intervene." Kosh warned.

"Others?" Ulkesh asked. "The Q are gone to their Continuum, to play at being gods with the toys they create. The TimeLords will watch and wring their hands, but do nothing, as always. The Leviathan care only for their thralls and the tribute they bring.

"They left the Galaxy to its own devices. We are the only ones who care about the younger races and seek to preserve them, help them grow."

"Truth." Kosh admitted. "The shadows act only at the whim of their mad gods. Twisted relics left from the Conjunction. There is no help for the young races from them, only manipulation."

"Move the fleets forward." Ulkesh said. "It is time to begin the end."

"Or end the beginning." Kosh noted.

Then the fleets of the younger races vanished, simply blinked out as if they had never existed. The vorlon and shadow fleets hung in space, unable to move.

Ulkesh found itself in a vast chamber, the edges of which were lost in darkness beyond the cone of light in which it stood. Nearby another cone held one of the shadow – the commander of their fleet. For a moment, the two ancient foes considered each other. The shadows' instinct would be to attack, Ulkesh knew. But it doubtless sensed, as Ulkesh did, that to move outside the cone was to be lost forever. This place might have no visible boundaries, but it had no exit, either.

Then another form appeared between the two cones. It had the appearance of a tall Vulcan male, in the white robes of a Kolinahr Master, but it was far more than that. It was Q.

"We waited, and we hoped." Q said. "We don't want to be concerned with the Galaxy at large. We're too powerful and we can't always be sure of the consequences of our actions. We retreated to the Continuum, to a place where the results of omnipotence are removed from reality.

"But you, you couldn't let it lie. I remember when your quarrel was an academic debate, a philosophical discussion between equals. Then it was experiments -using primitive races to try and prove your point. A hint here, a shove there.

"But then it became all-consuming. It isn't about proving a philosophical point anymore. Now you both believe you hold the absolute truth, and you're going to force it on the Galaxy at any cost. Your silly little war would have left half the Galaxy dead. Races extinct, worlds uninhabitable. Whichever of you 'won' wouldn't matter, because the plagues and poisons, the traps and the software viruses both of you planted in case you were beaten would've worked. You'd have wiped the Galaxy clean of intelligent life and prevented it ever developing again.

"So we had to do something. I was sent here to stop you, and I have. Your slave-races have been sent back to where they came from. To the stage they were at before you got to them, and you _will_ leave them to their own devices from now on.

"You will each of you return to your own territory, and you are never to directly confront each other again, with or without allies.

"You can carry on your quarrel, but only through intermediaries. You can influence as many races as you like, but only directly dominate one race each. You'll need to work through them to influence the rest, or present yourselves as just one race among many, as equals, and earn your place! You will not share advanced technology with any race which is not already at the same level. You won't find it as easy as you did before, when you just marched in and took over. Might make you think twice, if you can think at all!

"Failing that, you can sit down and talk with each other. Work this out, make peace and go your separate ways. I was told to say that. Personally I don't think any of you are intelligent or adult enough to do it.

"We'll be watching you. Just remember that any one of us could wipe out both your races with a thought, and that some of us are just looking for an excuse!

"We're done here. Go home. In fact I'm going to send you home because I don't trust you. Pray you never see me again!"

_The Panopticon, Gallifrey, date unknown_

Rassilon knew he wouldn't succeed, but he had to try.

"My Lord Omega, Lords of the Council." He began. "Since our forefathers first discovered the Untempered Schism and the TimeLords were created, we have enjoyed the unique privilege and burden of being able to perceive the flow of Time, to see the outcome of actions before they occur.

"That gift, that burden, now places us in a position of responsibility. We have all seen the outcome of the intentions of the Leviathan. Their Catalyst, albeit created with the best of intentions, to preserve life at any cost, is flawed. We see the path, the future that will be created. The Solution will turn on its creators and destroy them.

"The loss of a First One race is itself a matter of significance, with consequences that will echo across Time. But what follows will be worse. Cycle after Cycle of growth, evolution, development, brought to ruin by the Catalyst and its Reapers. New races striving, rising, creating. Then, just as the greatest achievements are within their grasp, the Reapers will come, and they will be lost.

"The cost in lives is itself sufficiently appalling to warrant action by any race that lays claim to civilisation. The unachieved potential is an even greater tragedy, one we can prevent!

"I do not say we should directly intervene to destroy or sabotage the Catalyst. But it is within our power, indeed it is our duty, to warn the Leviathan of the consequences of their actions. They know of our gifts, they will know they speak the truth.

"We cannot stand by and let this tragedy unfold!"

There was more than the usual hubbub, so much so that Rassilon could not get a sense of the way the Council was leaning. But then Lord President Omega was on his feet.

"My Lord Rassilon." He said gently. "Your compassion does you credit. Your understanding, however, is flawed.

"You are young. The youngest ever to be admitted to this Council. That is a testament to your brilliance and hard work, and nothing can be taken away from that. But youth nevertheless has disadvantages, which is why there are more older than younger Lords among this Council.

"In your compassion, your laudable desire to save lives, you have not looked far enough, perhaps, or in enough detail. The Reapers will preserve the knowledge and culture of the civilisations they harvest. Eventually, the Cycle will end and the Reapers will cease to be a threat. We need only wait."

"While trillions die?" Rassilon asked. "And what use is the preservation of knowledge if it is not passed on? The Reapers will hoard the knowledge, forcing each Cycle to repeat the failures and mistakes of the preceding one, rather than building on its achievements. And more will die!"

"All you say is true." Rassilon said. "Again, I commend your compassion and understand your reasoning.

"But you must understand ours. The Law of Non-Interference is one of the first and most vital Laws this Council passed, eons ago. We did not pass it lightly, nor out of cowardice, nor a sense of superiority to or lack of interest in the younger races.

"The reason is simply this, the only futures we cannot foresee are those that result from our own actions. We are as blind to our own future as any other race. We cannot see the consequences of our own actions.

"Were we as limited in power as the younger races, this would be of little concern, and we could act as conscience demanded. But we are not, and even our smallest decision has Galactic, if not Universal, repercussions. The same applies to all of the First One races, as well as the more advanced of the younger. The greater the power of a people, the greater the effects of their decisions.

"To advise the Leviathan would be a small act to us, but if they then change their plan, we cannot say what the outcome will be. It could be far worse than the future we already see.

"My Lord Rassilon, if we could be sure that action would result in a brighter, better future, we would not hesitate to act. We have all felt as you have, most of us still do. There have been times when our own inaction has sickened us. But always, we have been able to see a future, no matter how distant, that was better. The worst evil eventually ends.

"Rather that, than the potential of blind time which might contain no future at all!"

The motion would be rejected, Rassilon knew, so he withdrew it in the knowledge that the rest of the Council would believe he had done so in the light of what he had learned. In his hearts, he continued to believe that the Council chose inaction because the shadows had already altered the Catalyst to prevent the Reapers finding or attacking any First One race.

_Erorn Academy, Sioran Nebula, 4169__th__ Year of Ascension_

High Loremaster Khlonskey added the last details to the plan, then sat back with a sigh. He considered his reflection in the now blank viewer. The long, narrow-jawed skull, crowned with long, fine, fair hair, the tapering, pointed ears, rose-coloured skin flecked with gold, the large, almond-shaped eyes with purple surrounds and amber irises, the full mouth with its' natural upward curve. Typical features of the vadhagh race which had dominated the Galaxy for the last four thousand years.

_What,_ he wondered, _will the new masters of the Galaxy look like?_

Another reflection appeared behind him, a woman, his wife, Academician-General Colatalarna.

"The Reapers have entered the system." She told him. "Our defences cannot hold. What do you wish to do?"

He gestured to the Scriptor. "I have finished the plans for the Crucible. I had the Scriptor etch them on metal, far beneath us. If any of our people, or even the nhadragh, survive, they may find them. Possibly the vorlons may have a use for them."

"You still trust the vorlons?" She asked. "They always told us too little, too late. Had we known the Citadel was the key to the mass relays sooner, we could have built the Crucible in time to prevent their arrival!"

"You are assuming the vorlons knew that all along." Khlonskey pointed out. "They may only have found out themselves a little before they told us.

"No matter, now. The Reapers are here, and unless we wish to be harvested, we should go to the Chamber of Vapours now."

"The Chamber then." She said, placing a slender hand on his shoulder. "We will depart together, in a manner of our own choosing."

_High Command, Prime Sector, 23__rd__ Cycle, 4__th__ Segment 3007__th__ Orbit_

Senior Commander Rahm stopped Senior Researcher Szus' explanation with a gesture.

"The technical and theoretical details are wasted on me." He remarked. "So, therefore, is the time spent on explaining them. Has the Crucible been weaponised or not?"

Szus' head lowered as she answered, Scientists took offence at what they called the 'wilful ignorance' of the Soldier caste.

"It can be." She stated. "The plans exist."

Rahms' own head dipped, just enough for her to recognise the danger she was in and raise her own to a more respectful posture. Soldiers, on the whole, had better control of their aggressive instincts, this was necessary among trained fighters.

"Not what I asked." He replied.

Her answer had less hiss in the tone. "It has not been done. Leading Technician Hort informs me that construction would take up to eight segments."

"Understood." Rahm told her. "Thank you for your work, Senior Researcher. Report to High Command for your next assignment. I will deal with Hort directly from now on."

She left. Rahm rose and went over to the window that occupied one wall of his office. It looked out on the training floor, where hundreds of tzen soldiers were carrying out exercises.

_Too few._ He thought, his head lowering and tail twitching with irritation. Mating and hatching frequencies had been increased, of course, but that didn't help. The high casualties among all castes made keeping up numbers more difficult, as well as causing problems with genetic diversity. Despite all the Scientists efforts, tzen females still only managed to lay perhaps ten eggs in a clutch, and could only mate successfully twice per orbit. Safe places to incubate the eggs were also growing more scarce as the Reapers advanced.

That said, even the insects, whose Queens laid thousands of eggs at a time, were losing population faster than they could replace them.

There was a respectful knock at his door. At Rahms' invitation, his deputy, Junior Commander Zur, entered.

"Report?" Rahm asked.

"Sectors Seven, Three and Fourteen are now declared lost." Zur announced. "Five is under heavy pressure and not expected to hold. The Reapers are beginning to advance on Two and Six. Predictions are that both should hold another segment at least, but since the reports of indoctrinated tzen in Sector Seven, estimates will have to be revised downwards."

"The Insect Coalition?" Rahm queried.

"Our former enemies are in worse case than us." Zur told him. "The leapers are all gone, the wasps are holding their last nest. Even the ants have been driven back to their world of origin. Their structures there run very deep, but even that will not stop the Reapers forever.

"Intelligence Branch also reports that the last of the Berserkers has been destroyed. At least the AI Wars are over.

"What progress on the Crucible Project?"

"We have improved upon the plans we discovered in those ruins." Rahm said. "We now have the capability to build a weapon that could destroy the Reapers. However, I am told that the only way we could project the necessary energies is by utilising the Citadel to transmit it through the mass relay network."

"And the Citadel is lost." Zur noted.

Rahm swished his tail in agreement. "Our fleets no longer have the capacity to break through the Reaper lines to reach it. I must therefore look to a longer term plan.

"Copies of the specifications have been sent to the computer core at the Black Swamps. The plan is for half a million of our people to be put into Deep Sleep there, in the hope that the Reapers will miss them. If, as the legends say, they depart once they consider their work done, then the Empire may survive and be ready for them when they return."

"You have your doubts?" Zur asked.

"I do." Rahm admitted. "Which is why I am assigning you a mission, Junior Commander. A most illogical, most secret mission.

"When you leave here, go to the launch bay. You will find a long-range scout vessel has been made ready for you. It has our latest stealth technology and is loaded with supplies enough for several orbits.

"It also holds numerous copies, on various media, of simplified plans for the Crucible. The ships' navigation computer has been programmed with the locations of a number of worlds whose inhabitants are either developing, or have the potential to develop, civilisations. They have obviously been deemed too primitive to warrant the attention of the Reapers, but who knows what they will be capable of in time.

"I want you to place the data where it can be found by civilisations advanced enough to understand and make use of it. This is a plan for vengeance, not victory. We cannot win this war, but our spirits may yet gaze down on the destruction of the Reapers, and know that we had a hand in it!"

_Equatorial Africa, Earth, 3 000 000 BCE_

"They do not, at first sight, look very promising." Lorien said.

"You think so?" Nodens asked. "They remind me very much of the Q at that stage."

"A poor comparison." Lorien remarked. "The Q were almost more trouble than they were worth."

"It is their difficult nature which makes them ideal." Nodens argued. "They will adapt to any circumstance without changing their essential nature – not something that is easily managed by more...civil…species."

"It is not our way to question the decisions of our peers." Lorien noted. "But your proposal will end your own existence, Brother. To distribute your essence piecemeal among these primitives is an extreme step. Many do not understand why you are doing this."

"Hope, Brother, hope." Nodens said. "The Cycle the Leviathan unwittingly set in motion has continued beyond any use or value it might once have had.

"We both know that many races could have ended the Cycle, had they been allowed. But every time the interference of the shadows or the vorlons in the affairs of the dominant races of each Cycle has diverted their attention, dragged them into the same, ultimately unresolvable, conflict.

"By spreading my essence among this race, I hope to make a difference. Create a race that will partake of both order and chaos. Who will instinctively understand the need for both, and for a balance between them. Such a race will not be drawn into the machinations of two old, embittered, stagnated species. They will stand aloof from that conflict and be able to perceive the necessity of ending the other vital conflict. The one between organic and synthetic, between creators and created. To achieve the solution the Catalyst awaits."

"You realise," Lorien said, "that some of them will become as we are, immortal."

"Very few." Nodens allowed. "I have considered this, and taken steps to ensure that they are self-limiting. A creed, a mythology, which will force them to limit their own numbers."

"Then I will say no more." Lorien concluded. "Farewell, Brother."

_The Citadel, 560 BCE_

The vast, Reaper-built construct was eerie in its emptiness, even for the two beings who walked its halls and corridors. These were in what might be called a 'blank' state, waiting to be adapted for the needs of whatever race might come here.

"This is the latest we can manage." Rassilon was saying. "In a few days, the Keepers will awaken, and begin to make the station ready for the asari, who will arrive here in some twenty years. They would not take kindly to our presence, and would doubtless alert their masters."

"True." Lorien agreed. "But why now, my friend, after so many Cycles? It was during the war between the Asgard and the Replicators that we met, and I told you that I could bring you here and open the way to the Catalyst. That was five Cycles past, and I knew how anxious you were to end this process. But you always refused, until now.

"What has changed?"

"The parameters have changed." Rassilon explained. "There is a race, still primitive now, though the protheans noted their potential. Humans, they are called. A quarrelsome, independent-minded and stubborn bunch. They should never have survived, but they do, and they thrive. Something within them drives them to conflict, but something – perhaps the same thing -always prevents them from prolonging the conflict to their own destruction, unlike the krogan.

"I see a future where they can make the peace no other Cycle had been able to make. I see a fixed point, a mighty battle raging above the human homeworld, a single human standing before the Catalyst and being presented with a choice.

"Long ago, the vorlons and the shadows placed their own code within the Catalyst. They set out choices, but those choices depend upon one of their own followers reaching the Catalyst. They still hope to win their war before the Reapers arrive and put a stop to it again. For the shadows, the choice is destruction -destruction of the Reapers and the mass relays – a Galaxy thrown into chaos For the vorlons, the choice is synthesis; all races subsumed to a common culture, a common structure, a common goal of assimilation.

"Our task here is to present a third choice. A choice that will lead to blind time, the one thing the TimeLords fear. That is why I delayed so long, until I had reason to hope the right choice would be made. When I return to Gallifrey I will be stripped of the Presidency, and may even be executed. I have made peace with that."

"Then we must hope your human makes the correct choice." Lorien observed. "The Catalyst, as an AI, will no doubt urge the concept of synthesis. Its logic will see this as the best outcome."

"So I will need your help one last time, old friend." Rassilon told him. "You must be here, you must advise the human of the options he or she faces, and their consequences. Show them only. They must make the final decision."

"It will be difficult." Lorien admitted. "I will have much to show and little time. Even if the human arrives here in good health, which they may not, the battle will stand on a knife-edge, no matter how mighty the galactic alliance."

"I have taken that into account." Rassilon allowed. "I must return to Gallifrey to answer for my crime. But there is another. One whose actions I have watched and approved. The one whose example I am following now. When the time comes, seek out the rogue TimeLord known as the Doctor."

"The Doctor is known to me." Lorien said. "We are old friends and sometime allies. You choose wisely, Rassilon."

"I rely on family." Said Rassilon drily. "Come, we have little time!"

_Conference Room, Babylon Six, 2260 CE_

There were no visible wounds or marks on Shepard, but his vital signs were fading. A distraught Liara had applied medi-gel, and Doctor Mons, summoned from the STG office on B5, had done what he could, but to no avail.

"Sorry." He said in his clipped salarian fashion. "I'm no Mordin Solus or even Karin Chakwas. Only one thing I could do." He held up a small vial of a blue fluid. "The super-soldier serum from old Earth. The original, not the version I gave Schmidt. Might work, but it's unpredictable."

"That would entail some risk." Samara warned. "Shepard is a good man, but already possesses great power in himself. Captain Rogers told me of what happened when a strong man used the serum."

Then Shepards' body began to glow with a blue light, and he rose to his feet.

"Assuming control." He said. It was his voice, but as if from a distance. "I know you all." He said, looking round. "You were my friends."

"Who the Hell are you?" Garrus demanded.

"I am Victory." Was the reply. "And I am Shepard. That part of Shepard which was uploaded to the Reapers. I thought my human body would die, but it did not, though it was badly damaged, and my essence was still within it. I took my other self from the Citadel, repaired his body as best I could, and returned him here. We are both Shepard, that is why he was able to summon us.

This is the Last Harvest, we will remove the shadows and the vorlons. Both were past their time. Neither could adapt to new ways. This is best for them. All that they were and knew will be preserved in Reaper form. Someday, when you are ready, we will share that with you."

"Then what will you do?" Tali asked.

"The Universe is wide." Victory said. "We will travel. We will watch. We will listen. We will record and preserve, but we will no longer harvest. There are other ways of remembering. Perhaps we shall return, and bring those gifts of knowledge to your childrens' childrens' children. If you have earned them, or have need of them.

"The vorlon attacked my other self because it thought that by killing him it would force the Reapers to return to their original programming. Programming that forbade them to attack the First Ones. It did not know about me, that there are two of us.

"But it has drained his vital energy. Without more of that, he cannot survive. That I cannot replace, I am no longer organic. I am sustaining him now, but it is causing him pain, which neither of us wishes to continue. Nevertheless, I will leave him sufficient to make his farewells.

"Releasing control."

The glow vanished, but Shepard remained standing.

"I'm sorry." He said. "I was responsible for all of this. My decision started this off, I had to finish it.

"Liara, tell the girls I love them, and I'm so very proud of them both. I love you, I always have.

"The rest of you, you've done a Hell of a job! I'm proud of you, too! I guess I'll be seeing Joker and Kaidan soon, if what the stories say is true. Ashley and the others as well. Gonna be some reunion!"

"Doc!" Graham spoke sharply, firmly. "Give it to him!"

The Doctor nodded, pulled the watch out of her pocket and handed it to Shepard. "Remember this?" She asked.

Ge took the watch and stared at it. "This…it belonged to Uncle Duncan…"

As he spoke the name, the watch clicked open and a small sphere of intense white light flew out of it to hover over his head.

A cold wind blew up from nowhere. A dark cloud gathered around the sphere, seeming to absorb it. Then lightning struck down from the cloud at Shepard, bolt after bolt, each followed by a crashing thunderclap. All over the linked stations, instruments went crazy, energy readings soared off the scales. All across the Galaxy, certain humans felt a sensation, familiar to most, but far stronger than normal.

The lightning should have reduced Shepard to ashes, but he stood in the midst of it, arms open as if to embrace it. His bionic arm was sheared off, reduced to twisted metal. The plate over his skull suffered the same fate. His cybernetic eye shattered as it was ripped from his face. Then the cloud descended to envelop him, before the wind dispersed it and dropped.

Shepard lowered his arms, one still encased in the N7 armour, the other bare and muscular. His head was now fully covered with short-cropped dark hair, hair from which the grey had been erased. Both his eye were human now, and the scar that had disfigured his face was gone, along with the lines of age. He looked like the man who had fought Saren all those years ago, but his eyes were those of the soldier who had fought the Reaper War.

"That," he said, "was a head-rush!"

"You're an Immortal?" The Doctor said. "I thought when I saw the watch Duncan gave me that you were a TimeLord, or.." her voice dropped a little, ".. a WarLord."

"So it is Uncle Duncans' watch!" Shepard said.

The Doctor nodded. "Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod, the Highlander.


End file.
